


Nykteridalatry

by bagheerita



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Character Death, Background relationship dubcon, Betrayal, Chronic Illness, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Drug Use, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gift of Life (Stargate), M/M, Public Blow Jobs, References to Addiction, Sentient Atlantis, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Telepathy, Unstated Enthusiastic Consent, Wraith Feeding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagheerita/pseuds/bagheerita
Summary: Sheppard must go "undercover" as a Wraith worshipper in order to travel on Todd's hive to the location of a repository of Ancient knowledge. But for all that he's here on a specific mission that he doesn't need to be distracted from, John finds himself learning a lot about Wraith, the ways they interact with their worshippers, and also a specific Wraith he finds he doesn't actually mind being in rather close quarters with.
Relationships: John Sheppard/Todd the Wraith
Comments: 81
Kudos: 178
Collections: Oh for the love of Todd!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tenebris (Eos_x)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eos_x/gifts).



> _**Prompt:**  
>  It's the FAKE RELATIONSHIP trope!! YAY!!  
> The title says it all. I'd love to see Todd with John or Rodney, but feel free to shake things up...  
> Does Todd need a fake worshipper? A companion? A 'pet'?  
> Does a human character need Todd to play their fake boyfriend?  
> Who knows? Who cares?! It's all for the trope people! And one lucky guy will end up going from a *fake* something to a very *real* something with the fabulous Todd. :D_  
> 
> 
> This is an idea we've talked about before, so I hope you enjoy the story! :)
> 
> With thanks to Mavet for her terrific beta assistance and cheerleading (which I really needed on this fic!)!!
> 
> This story is set early s4 in an altered canon (particularly late s3), alterations mostly based around the fact that Atlantis is vaguely sentient.

John has gotten used to being able to get a good feeling for the city before he even wakes up. He can tell if anything major is broken, how the energy levels in the ZPM are doing, and usually the mood in operations.

This morning, Elizabeth is already in her office, and the mood is tense. John would have suspected that Elizabeth's tension had to do with her still recovering from her injuries after the Asuran beam that had grazed the central tower before the shield went up, but the tenor of Atlantis' tension in his mind is more... disgruntled, about whatever is upsetting Elizabeth.

The city can be rather protective of those it considered belonging to it, and Elizabeth is one of those people; if it's annoyed by what's bothering Elizabeth, it isn't her physical health. It's probably something John is going to have to deal with.

And so, John rolls himself out of bed even though he's barely awake and still has 45 minutes till his alarm. Sure enough, as he's finishing shaving after his shower, his communicator buzzes.

"John?" Elizabeth asks. "AR 3 brought back something... interesting, from P3X 247. I'm calling a senior staff meeting to go over it."

"Understood. I can be there in five if you need."

Which is still about a half an hour before his shift started, but Elizabeth isn't even surprised anymore.

"If you like," she says distractedly, "but no rush." She barely blinks; John just knows, and everyone's grown familiar with it.

* * *

Rodney is still yawning when he sits down at the table, and Ronon looks amused. Teyla and Ford are gone, with Stackhouse's team, Teyla lending her particular calm to the Calderans' relocation and Ford still doing best when under her supervision. Beckett looks just as rumpled as Rodney but brightens up considerably at the sight of coffee; Rodney doesn't notice the mug until Ronon slides one under his nose but seizes it immediately and drains it with a vengeance.

John might have gotten down to operations early to chat with Elizabeth, but he had gotten waylaid by a question from Chuck, so he sidles into the meeting in time to see Rodney's upended mug get slammed back down on the table and share an amused look with Ronon.

Elizabeth smiles at them all as she takes the central seat, to John's left. "Major Lorne's team found something on P3X 247 that I think bears further investigation," she says without preamble.

Rodney, now paying attention and actually reading the report on the screen of his laptop in front of him, says, "A repository of Ancient knowledge and artifacts?"

John winces; Rodney is a little shrill, especially for this early in the morning. "That's definitely a good find," John allows, though he senses a "but" coming on as he scans through the report himself. In their earlier meeting, Elizabeth had asked him a bunch of leading questions about how far a cloaked jumper could travel undetected, and how close the Daedalus would need to be to provide support but hadn't actually mentioned a specific mission.

"Unfortunately, that's not precisely what they found," Elizabeth temporizes.

John's reading ahead but Rodney gets to it first. "They found _directions_ to a repository," Rodney's tone is scathingly enough to peel paint. "So, they found nothing."

"Not nothing," Elizabeth protests mildly.

John tries to block out the sound of voices. He's gotten to a part of the report that is a little more interesting, and Atlantis thrills in reaction to his sudden realization as John inhales sharply. "It's on a Wraith-controlled planet," he says, surprised. Elizabeth's earlier questions now have a more concrete space to play in, and he confirms what he'd suspected from her earlier demeanor- this planet is too far away from a Stargate for a jumper to really be practical, and too deep in Wraith territory for the Daedalus to be able to assist.

"That's about as good as not knowing where it is at all," Rodney gripes.

But things are connecting in John's head, possibly quicker than his mouth can keep up, and he says, "Well, we sort of know a Wraith."

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow at him expressively. She hadn't mentioned her precise objective earlier, and so he hadn't brought it up then.

"Well, I don't mean that he's just going to take us there or anything," John temporizes. "But he did help us out with Ford. We could ask him if he knows anything about this place."

Rodney snorts. "Oh, he does _not_ get credit for Ford! He didn't even really _do_ anything."

John rolls his eyes. "Passing on information is doing _something_. We wouldn't have known where to look otherwise."

Elizabeth holds up a hand to forestall Rodney's rebuttal and says, "Call him."

* * *

"John Sheppard." The Wraith he's taken to calling "Todd" looks back at him from the videoscreen. "I received your communication."

John makes a face and wonders why Elizabeth let him talk her into letting him take care of this.

"We recently came across some information," he begins, "about an outpost with some data we'd like to access. But it seems to be in your part of town. I was just wondering if you know of a _best_ way for us to maybe sneak into Wraith territory?"

Todd grins, the expression quick and bloodthirsty. He tilts his head back, regarding John through the screen. "If this data is of interest, I would be willing to retrieve it for you," he offers.

"Not a chance," Rodney mutters. He says, more loudly, "That's not going to work for us. We need one of our people to have access to the data source."

"Hmm." Todd narrows his eyes. "Then I am not certain what you wish to accomplish here. While you have worked in tandem with hives before, in the territory in question your vessel will certainly be observed and targeted. The Queen who holds the worlds in this sector does not care who passes through her territory as long as they offer tribute," Todd grins. "But her Commander is rather... more particular. He rules the territory in her name, and it is he you will need to satisfy."

"And what does he want?" John asks.

Todd's grin grows more knowing. "You will not give it to him, so it does not matter," he replies. "However." He leans back, looking thoughtful. "There is a way that I could assist in gaining access to the world in question for one of your people."

"Yes?" Rodney asks eagerly.

"You must not come as one seeking, but as one who is powerless. This way he will not see you as offering any possibility of threat."

Rodney frowns, but John thinks he knows where this is going.

"You could come on my hive, as one who lived here," Todd offers.

"You mean as lunch?" Rodney scoffs. "Fat chance."

"No." Todd's expression is tight and John feels something ripple through him that isn't Atlantis. "As a worshipper."

Rodney's jaw drops.

"We'll have to think about it," John says, and he disconnects the communication, but not before he sees Todd's grin of triumph.

"We can't," Rodney protests.

"How much do we need that information?" John counters.

"There's no way to tell! It could be data on how to control the Replicators," Rodney muses. "Or it could be secret weapons for fighting the Wraith so we could actually turn the tide of the war permanently. Or it could be Ancient crockpot recipes! But there's no way we can do this!"

Elizabeth protests as well. "Even if we decided to send one of our people to be fed on by a Wraith, repeatedly, there would be no way that we could ensure they would be at all coherent and able to communicate what they learned from the outpost by the time they returned, which would make sending them in the first place pointless."

"Not necessarily," John finds himself speaking up. "If they had the gene, Atlantis could access the information directly from their mind."

Elizabeth scowls at him and he realizes she knows he wants to do this.

"That _is_ true," Rodney puts in. "But where are you going to find a person willing to go live on a Wraith hive for the express purpose of being fed on and _not_ dying from it, which might be the only thing worse than actually dying from it, who is also intelligent enough to know what we need to access from the database?"

Elizabeth just stares at John and after a minute Rodney gets it.

"Not even you are that insane."

"It makes sense," John says. "My connection to Atlantis is strong enough that the city can probably pull the information from the database right through me. And there's the fact that I'm the only one we know he's not going to kill."

"How do you know that?" Rodney protests.

But Elizabeth just says calmly, "We'll have to change all your codes."

John nods. It's only to be expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The title means "Wraith worship" in Greek; _sort of_ , since there isn't an exact translation for the name of an alien species.)


	2. Chapter 2

The wind picks up across the pier as the Wraith transport comes in for landing. John looks up at it with some trepidation. He knows this is the only way this is going to work, but that doesn't mean he has to admit he's excited about it. And there's still plenty of ways this could go wrong.

The transport lands and the door opens.

The marine team behind John shuffles about with a nervous energy, like they can't believe they don't need to have their guns already firing.

The occupant of the vessel seems to be having the same questions, because it's several minutes before they see movement, and the Wraith John thinks of as "Todd" steps out. He scans the group arrayed before him and smirks. He steps forward, walking with slow purpose toward where John stands. It's overtly predatory, and several of the marines tighten their stance, P90s at their shoulders.

John waves away their tension and steps forward. "We're ready."

Todd laughs. "You don't think I'd let you bring all of these soldiers as well?"

Elizabeth frowns. "We're hardly going to let a member of our expedition go off without backup."

"Ahh." Todd barely glances at her, his eyes fixed on John. "If you expect this deception to work, you will need to trust that I know more about how to carry it off than you. And if your men come with, I am certain that we will not be successful."

John can hear Elizabeth is about to protest, but he breaks eye contact with Todd and turns to her. "We've been over this. I won't be _alone_ ," John reminds her, because that's the whole point of this endeavor. He smiles at her, though it's probably a little strained. "I'll be fine."

She frowns, but they _have_ already been over this, several times, debating which person would be best suited to the task, and whether it's even really worth it. Even taking into account that Todd seems to _want_ him for the mission- Elizabeth argues that means it's a trap, John argues that means Todd's invested in him not ending up dead- John's the only one Atlantis likes well enough that they can be _certain_ the city will retrieve that truth of the intel he obtains from his mind no matter how drugged out on Wraith enzyme he gets. And John knows the potential gain is worth the risk- knows Elizabeth has always felt that way since they first spoke about this mission.

So Elizabeth can only nod.

Todd turns and stalks back to the transport, and John follows. He's got a duffle with some supplies but he isn't surprised when Todd takes one look at it and says, "The hive will provide everything you need. In order to make the deception truer."

"Great," John makes a face. "Can I stash my stuff in a corner somewhere then, so I can use it after we're done?"

Todd gives a nod of concession, and the door closes behind them.

* * *

When the door opens again on the hive, John's momentarily reluctant to step off the transport.

They'd passed the trip in silence, and John wonders if it's because Todd knows John spent most of it trying not to freak out. It's one thing to know something needs to be done and to know he needs to be the one to do it, but it's something else to actually _be_ doing it, and about to face up to something he still has nightmares about even a year later.

But Todd just stands by the doorway, waiting for him, and John inhales and stands, because he's here and he might as well do this.

There are three Wraith waiting for them. Todd strides up to them and they all turn to look at John.

He stands tensely and his hand twitches for his Colt.

"This is my Second," Todd gestures to a Wraith with a tattoo on his cheek and a permanent sneer. "This is the Hive Master." Todd gestures to the second Wraith, a heavyset fellow with a shaved head who is the tallest of the trio, almost as tall as Todd. He and the Second have similar thin goatees, though the style looks wildly different on their different body types. And Todd gestures to the last Wraith, who has a long face with rather craggy features, a full face tattoo of what looks like vines with thorns and leaves on them, and whose hair hangs long and straight down his back like it's trying to connect to the floor. "And this is the Holder. They will assist in teaching you about how worshippers are expected to behave."

John does not like the sound of that, but Todd immediately continues on, walking past these Wraith and gesturing for John. "Come."

John follows him into the hive.

He's not actively hunting his way through it looking for Wraith to kill, but the hive doesn't look that different. It's still dark and gloomy, and chilly and moist, and other things that are generally unpleasant. Though it's unusually empty of Wraith.

They come to a closed door and Todd waves it open. Once they're on the other side, the door closes behind them, and Todd speaks. "I and the three other leaders of the hive are the only ones who know that what you propose is a deception. If any of the others discover it, it will make your task more difficult."

John sets his duffle on the floor and nods. "I intend for the mission to succeed, so I'll make sure they don't find out," he says easily. "I assume that behind this closed door is a safe place to talk about this?" He looks around the room. It's spacious, and well appointed.

Todd grins. "This is my chamber,” he offers easily. He steps forward.

John steps back. He inhales slowly, and steels himself from further retreat.

Todd halts. "You know what you have undertaken to portray. There is no faking the position of a worshipper," he warns. "Not to other commanders. I will not demand of you anything that can be avoided, but they will know if you have not fed me. And if you are not eager for it, that will be a most obvious tell." He adds the last with a humorous lilt, like he's maybe not as confident about this as he wants John to think.

John nods. "I know." He steps forward, closer to Todd. "Do it."

Todd looks at him for a long moment, then raises his right hand to touch John's jacket, over his collarbone. He runs his forefinger over the cloth from John's shoulder to his throat, and then he lifts his hand away. "Disrobe," he commands.

"Excuse me?" John's eyebrows shoot up, and he hopes Todd can't hear his heart rate, thudding from the tension of the moment and Todd's proximity.

Todd takes a step back and looks at him, raking him from head to foot. "You expect to complete this 'mission' wearing the emblem of your people?" He sounds sardonic; the "emblem" of Atlantis was how Todd had recognized Ford after all, had known that he belonged to John's team, so it's not exactly unknown among Wraith. But John realizes it's more than the jacket- it's that John needs to stop questioning Todd at every single step if this is going to work at all.

John inhales, and he undoes his holster and sets his Colt on the table. Taking off his jacket, he tosses it to Todd. Todd catches it out of the air and holds it before he drops it on top of John's duffle. Without stopping to think about it, John strips off his black undershirt, tossing that to Todd too. Todd's hand closes around it, and the pits beside his nose flare as he holds the warm cloth beside his face. He looks at John.

The air is chilly, but a completely unrelated kind of shiver runs over John's skin. If Elizabeth knew the reason _why_ John had been perfectly fine with the fact that he was the one who was the perfect fit for Todd's idea, she probably wouldn't have allowed it; though Caldwell probably would have been more interested in making it happen, just because having a marked sexual interest in their decidedly _male_ alien possible-ally would have gotten John out of Caldwell's way pretty definitively as far as being Atlantis' military commander.

John kneels quickly and unlaces his boots. He pulls them off and tosses them to Todd too.

Todd catches them, grinning. He drops them to the ground, his eyes sharp on John, anticipatory.

John undoes his belt and shucks his boxers and BDU pants down together. He throws them to Todd.

Todd feels the fabric between his fingers curiously. He steps forward. John tries to tell himself that he's getting cold, and he's naked, it's an atavistic thing, but the shiver that ripples over his skin leaves him with his mouth open slightly in anticipation so it's harder to convince himself that anyone here bought it.

Todd steps closer to him, and his left hand comes up, fingers tracing their way curiously through the hair on John's chest until they catch in the chain of his dogtags. The tags tinkle metallically between the Wraith's fingers and John reaches automatically to take hold of them, his fingers brushing Todd's. His eyes are fixed on their hands, and he can't look away. It's Todd's left hand, which might be why John doesn't immediately freak out. Todd releases his hold on the dogtags but withdraws his hand slowly, like he might be reluctant to put distance between them.

John reaches to put his hand around Todd's wrist, stopping him from pulling away. He pulls the chain off over his head and pools it in Todd's left palm. "If I," he starts, but has to stop and clear his throat. "If something happens to me, make sure this gets back to Atlantis."

Todd looks at him for a long moment, then nods his head. John holds his eyes, focused on the golden-yellow glow in the low light. Todd tilts his head back, the pits on his face flaring slightly and his eyes closing to slits. John wants to ask him what that means, what he can know about John with his alien senses, but he's still standing there naked, and he looks away and withdraws his hand.

Todd steps back. He regards John for a long moment, then he says, "Several of your clothing items will be acceptable attire, if you wish." Which just proves to John that this was less about clothes than it was about recognizing chain of command. "But this is the usual garb of a worshipper." He turns to a table set to the side and lifts from it some garments he holds out to John.

John steps forward. Like that's some trigger for his body to finally realize he's naked in a chilly room, gooseflesh ripples all up and down his limbs and the fact that the tension between him and Todd was making him half hard suddenly isn't a problem anymore. Walking forward he reaches out a hand, takes the clothes from Todd, and shakes them out. They're pale in color, a tannish off-white that would probably be called something like "eggshell" or "ecru" in the stores his mother used to drag him through. The bottoms are loose trousers that actually look really warm and comfortable. The shirt is a wraparound tunic with mid-length sleeves; he bets it leaves his chest open and exposed.

"Who'd you get these off of?" he asks. He realizes it comes out kind of accusatory.

Todd stiffens, lip curling away from his teeth like he's trying harder than usual to not get pissed off, and John would feel better about making the Wraith feel uncomfortable when he's the naked one, but it sits uneasily in him.

"Worshipper communities design and sew their own garments. These have not been worn by any other previously."

"Somebody just had these ready?"

Todd bares his teeth, losing his battle against getting annoyed. "I requested some slight alterations, but yes."

John's a little surprised by that. "Thank you," he says, hoping it gets the rest of what he wants to say across to Todd.

And Todd does seem to relax, slightly. He bows his head to John and turns to face him. He raises his right hand.

John flinches, he can't not. But he takes a deep breath, and his hands aren't tied behind him this time, so he reaches forward and curls his fingers in Todd's coat. "It's okay," he murmurs. He's doing this; he has to do this.

Todd's hand comes to rest against his chest gently- it doesn't remind him of the bunker and Kolya, but of the forest, the open sky, and Todd kneeling over him. John hadn't known about the Gift then, but it had torn through him with a wild energy, filling him the way the feeding had drained him, and caught in that memory he's almost eager for it now.

But before the Gift, Todd's hand presses down, his nails cutting into John's chest, and the bite of the handmouth latching on fills him with dread and wrongness.

John's legs go out from under him and his fingers, caught tight around folds of Todd's coat, are gnarled with the grip. He gasps for air and he's pretty sure when the air leaves him it's in a scream of pain. Todd's arm is around him, holding him almost tenderly.

But the sharp, dragging pain suddenly stops, and John jerks as it reverses, the life flowing into him. It burns on the way in as it has on the way out, and the scream that tears out of his throat this time is wild and desperate.

When it's over he feels exhilarated and exhausted. An experience he remembers being stretched out over hours, and feelings shunted aside because of the need to escape Kolya last time, now fills his whole being, and he's not sure he can deal with that. He's not sure he wants to. He’s gasping softly but he can breathe fine; his flesh tingles when anything rubs against it but he can’t comprehend how to respond, how it makes him feel. The exhaustion starts to win out over the exhilaration, because if he’s asleep he doesn’t have to think- he doesn’t have to decide how to feel.

Todd carries him to the bed and lays him down, and John curls on his side, every breath a sigh that's charged with the possibility of everything. "Is it," he asks the shadow that leans over him, and Todd, pulling a fur blanket over John, pauses.

"No," he replies. "This quickly, your response is not because of the enzyme." His eyes flash. “Not solely.”

John shivers. The fur is warm, and soft, and he doesn't want to think about what Todd's words mean. He closes his eyes. Before he falls asleep he feels Todd's hand stroking his hair and he’s grounded just enough in his head to decide that he finds it comforting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After doing some world building and thinking about this story, I've added more tags that are applicable, and, even though I'm not entirely sure where this is going, some things that I am planning on having show up. (I'm annoyed that "main relationship is entirely Enthusiastic Consent but the characters are too busy doubting themselves and obsessing about their situation to actually talk about how enthusiastic their consent is" is too long to be a tag, because I feel like nothing shorter really captures the essence of these idiots.)  
> On that note, given that the Wraith feeding enzyme is portrayed as addictive, and the generally brainwashy effects that cults of worship can have, I feel like Consent, and the ability to give it, is going to be a Discussion at some point in this story. It is not my intention to write any of the main characters, especially our central couple, in a nonconsensual situation, but I feel like it might walk a line, especially for some readers. So, I've changed the Archive Warning from N/A to "choose not to warn."  
> Apologies that this chapter is rather short, but the next one will be longer.  
> 

John wakes slowly. He's really hot, but there's a sated lethargy pulling his mind back from awareness and keeping him from acting until he fully remembers where he is.

He looks down at himself. He's lying, naked, on Todd's bed, wrapped in a fur blanket.

Everything in his mind is still hazy, but some prodding at it makes things clearer. He's pretty sure he remembers everything that happened yesterday, or whenever he fell asleep; he's not missing anything. He runs a mental "hand" over his link to Atlantis at the back of his mind.

Atlantis comes awake under his touch, poking a figurative nose into his hand. His link is strong, the city just quiescent now that he's away from it, and not in immediate danger. His hand goes to his chest, and the skin is raw. _You didn't raise a fuss when he was eating me_ , he chides the city. But Atlantis just seems confused. _You wanted it_ , the city says. _Why would it be bad if you wanted it?_

"Why indeed," John murmurs and sits up, the chill air immediately stealing the heat from his skin. The room is empty, and he looks around it. There is light coming from an unknown source, as it seems like there always is on hives. From the corner of his eye, John sees something skitter over the wall and he makes a face. No telling what kind of things live in a hive, other than Wraith.

John stands from the bed and goes back over to the table with the worshipper clothes. After John passed out, it looks like Todd folded them and set them back where he'd first lifted them from; John's own clothes are folded and set on top of his duffle, the bag under the table and unopened.

John reaches for the worshipper clothes and pulls them on quickly, without thinking about it much. The trousers are nicely insulated, and he feels warmer already. He feels what could be an inner pocket along the waistband, the perfect size for the knife Ronon gave him, and finds another open seam just to the side of his right knee that turns out to be another hidden pocket. He wonders if those are standard or part of Todd's "alterations." The wraparound shirt does show enough for him to feel like he's in an episode of Magnum P.I., the fabric crossing his chest low enough that it leaves the scar where Todd fed exposed. John purposely wraps it a little looser, so that it hangs open. He makes a face; combined with the beard he's working on he's going to look like he's about to audition for the Bee Gees.

Underneath the outer garments Todd had handed to him yesterday are a pair of shoes, more like well-fitted slippers. Like the trousers, they're made of thick, warm material, the soles cushioned. He's alone, so John takes a moment to examine the clothes. He doesn't know anything about clothes-making, but he's worn enough tailored pieces versus off the rack stuff to recognize that this is handmade, and if not to his measurements then to someone very close. The cloth is soft and feels more like cotton than linen. The trousers are a darker shade of the same off-white color, but the shirt is slightly paler. Both pieces are embroidered, the trousers in a stripe down the outside of the leg, and the shirt with small symbols in tan thread around each arm and the neckline, and with a larger pattern over the body of it. Most of the symbols he recognizes as Ancient writing, likely Wraith derivative, but it takes him longer than he wants to admit before he realizes the large design is an echo of Todd's star.

He's still standing there, one hand pressed to his side and tracing the outline of the star, when the door opens and Todd walks in. It's never too soon to figure out how your undercover personality is going to act, and John takes one step forward and falls to his knees. "Master," he says, the word coming to his lips with surprising ease.

His eyes are cast down, but he sees Todd falter a moment before continuing forward. Todd strides up to him and his left hand comes to rest on John's hair. John notices there's another Wraith behind Todd and is even more glad that he decided to wear the clothes Todd provided and to get in character already.

Todd's hand rests more firmly on his head and John leans into the touch, raising his head a bit to press into Todd, and to look at Todd from under his lashes with the most drugged out hippie look he can muster.

Todd's face doesn't give away much, but John thinks he's surprised. "Your rest was rejuvenating."

It's not really a question, but John rolls his head closer so that his breath ghosts over Todd's palm when he says, "Yes."

John inhales and he can smell Todd's skin. There's something about him that screams _inhuman_ but John can't place exactly what it is. It's not a scent that reminds him of anything, and it's not off-putting, but it's a reminder that Todd is dangerous, and not necessarily a predictable variable in whatever equation John wants to come up with. It suddenly seems idiotic to call him "Todd." He must have some other name of his own. Something that suitably captures the _alienness_ of him.

"Perhaps this will not be as difficult as you thought," the other Wraith says, and John lets his eyes flicker to rest on him. It's the Wraith Todd had called his Second. He's smirking in a way that would bug John if John wasn't _trying_ to make sure his persona would elicit pretty much exactly that reaction.

Todd's thumb brushes against John's skin. "Perhaps," he allows, but there's a hesitance to the word. "Sheppard. We came to tell you there has been a change in our plan for this endeavor."

Dread run through him like a shiver and John doesn't want to admit it's mostly directed at the fact that he probably won't need to play this part any longer. "What's up?"

"I had planned to approach the location in question on another pretext and placate the queen with distracting gifts while giving you access to the information you require," Todd says drily. "However, her Commander has called for a meeting of varied commanders at the planet that is the location of your depository. He would like to discuss with us how best to arrange the fall of the Lanteans."

John's eyebrows shoot up his face. "Well, that's a convenient invitation that serves our ends," he drawls. He realizes distantly that he's still kneeling on the floor. He stands, rising easily to his feet.

Todd's hand falls away from his face. "There will be more eyes watching everything, but also more opportunity to take advantage of the chaos that is inevitable in such a situation."

"Sounds exciting." John feels something giddy rise in him.

"Yes," Todd says, and the sibilant hisses a bit. John may be imagining it, but Todd's eyes look like they are glowing. John's maybe not the only one excited about this mission.

Todd's Second puts in, "We will lose several cycles we had planned to have while in transit. Perhaps we should begin immediately to discuss behavior that will be needed to maintain your charade?"

"Alright," John allows. He glances at Todd, but Todd is glaring at his Second.

Though Todd seems to be admonishing him, the Second only looks exasperated and beckons to John.

"Come. I will take you to the Holder for instruction."

John hesitates, looking back at Todd, before he says, "Okay." He steps forward before Todd stops him.

"Sheppard. " John halts. Todd stands facing him, his left hand held out. There's a small dagger lying in the palm of his hand. "Take it," Todd urges him. John reaches for it, his finger brushing the skin of Todd's hand before closing around the weapon.

Todd pulls his hand back sharply. "Do not let any other harm you," he says harshly.

"Yeah," is about all John can think of to say to that. And the question he feels needs to be answered. "What's your name?"

Todd stills in a distinctly predatory way, everything about him sharp in anticipation.

"I mean, you have to have one. And I should know it, shouldn't I? If..." He falters. Maybe he wouldn't; maybe the relationship between Wraith and worshippers isn't so intimate as his mind wants to paint it.

"Your earlier address was sufficient," Todd says, and he leaves the room like he can't stand to look at John.

John sighs. This charade isn't going to work out if he annoys his Wraith too much.

In the silence that follows Todd's departure, the Second observes, "Humans rarely ask such a thing. They are usually content to make up their own names for us."

John flushes. "What do I call him?"

"Master is sufficient." The Second grins. "Or Commander." He sobers, his gaze heavy on John. "In general, we are not on intimate terms with worshippers," he says, his words uncannily similar to John's thoughts. "To call him anything else would reveal that your position was a charade."

John nods.

"Come," the Second beckons him.

John slides the knife Todd gave him into the hidden pocket in the seam on his waistband and follows.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks again to the marvelous Mavet, who continues to be a most beneficial beta on this tricky tale, even though I am truly terrible at remembering to remark upon her amazing assistance with the posting of every chapter.

John walks a few steps behind the Second, his head bowed. It's hard, because he's taller than the Second and he doesn't feel that he pulls off respectful very well. There are other Wraith in the halls, passing them by. Some of them laugh at him, a strange hissing chuckling sound, but John ignores them. It's when one reaches out to touch him that John braces himself to fight back. But the Second whirls and fixes the offender with a glare that has him retreating immediately and without questions or protest. John's kind of envious; it's a command skill he'd like to have.

He and the Second continue down the halls, until they come to an open space. John glances up to see that there are other humans present- about a dozen men and women are scattered around the room, two standing in the doorway to another room farther back and talking softly to each other. Several of the humans are dressed similarly to him, in pale tan and off-white, but others are wearing clothes dyed purple in various levels of intensity to create darker and lighter shades, certain garments appearing almost black. They are engaged in different tasks: some appear to be spinning thread, some are stirring large buckets of John has no idea what, and one young man is working a large loom. The people all glance over at him with sharp interest; taking in his appearance seems to change the nature of their interest and most of them turn back to their work, but now with quick glances and heads bent closer to each other to exchange some gossip. John wonders sourly if he has some sort of sign over his head, that they should so quickly _know_ who he is, but he glances down and remembers that he's wearing Todd's tattoo embroidered over his chest and side- and that answers that question.

These are the true worshippers of Todd's hive, and something inside John twists; he's not sure he wants to think about why these people are here. They're wearing the low, open fronted shirts, though they seem... not like they're currently drugged out on Wraith enzyme? Most of them are younger looking, though there is a collection of three people facing a Wraith whose back is turned to John, and the two younger looking ones are deferring to a grey-haired woman who is in the center between them. She is speaking to the Wraith, her wrinkled left hand raised as if to demonstrate a point.

The Second walks past them like they aren't there, directly to the Wraith present; as the Wraith turns to the Second, John recognizes the Holder. The grey-haired woman steps back reverently from the Second's approach. 

The Holder and the Second have some mental conversation, and then the Holder gestures the Second to precede him into another room. He does so, and John continues following.

The door closes behind them and the Holder looks John up and down. "At any time that you are still instead of moving you could be kneeling," the Holder says. Though he's an inch or two shorter than John he's mastered the ability of looking down on someone while looking up at them.

John bristles, his hands clenching. But he's supposed to be learning from these guys, so he sinks to the floor, face turned down so they can't see his expression. He wants to make some crack about how he should have sent a younger officer, with better knees, but he's actually feeling pretty spry. A shiver runs over his skin; Todd must have been really generous with his Gift earlier.

The Holder walks around him in a measured circle before resting his left hand on John's bent head.

John tenses and tries to pull away. The Holder fists his hand in John's hair, pulling his face up until they're looking each other in the eye. John's right hand has moved to the hilt of his hidden knife instinctively, but he refrains from actually drawing it. He's sure his expression is anything but submissive and drugged out, but he can't help that. He signed up for being manhandled by _Todd_. He is not okay being touched by anyone else, even though he's supposed to be able to trust these guys. The Holder looks satisfied, though, and releases him. "You may rise, if you are more comfortable that way, Sheppard," he says.

John slides a look at the Second. "You may speak also," the Second assures him.

So, John stands up and says, "What the hell was that?"

The Holder grins. He waves his left hand nonchalantly. "You mimic the postures well, but I wished to test your resolve." His gaze is a heavy weight on John.

John exhales. "And I flunked," he guesses.

The Holder's eyes open wider in surprise "Not at all. You are a bit more spirited than most worshippers, but the Commander is known for his odd tastes. Your defiance is easily read as dedication to him. As long as you do not fight his touch." The Holder glances at the Second.

"I do not think that will be a problem, " the Second says, amused.

John bristles again, but he takes a deep breath. If this is going to work, he has to play the part. He shouldn't be upset if it comes more easily than he wants to admit to.

"Ah," the Holder says knowingly. "Very well then. Most worshippers come for the thrill of the Gift," the Holder explains.

"We call that addiction," John mutters.

"These do not much care who gives the Gift," the Holder continues without acknowledging John. "But there are some who worship only a single Wraith. Usually it is a queen, but it is a mark of status for a Commander to have such a worshipper. You will be permitted more leeway in your actions because the others will think the Commander keeps you for this reason." The Holder strokes his chin. "This is quite perfect in truth. The role will be much less demanding for one such as you."

John bristles again and the Holder levels a forefinger in front of his face. "The thing you must learn is to give no notice to anything that is spoken unless the Commander addresses you directly."

John grits his teeth and nods shortly. He _does_ know how to pay attention while pretending like he's not, but he hasn't had time to practice that aspect of it.

"He was doing better, " the Second acknowledges. "Until we gave him liberty to speak in this room."

"Hmm." the Holder seems doubtful. "When those of different hives meet, they will speak aloud instead of forming mental bonds. You will hear much, but if you give any reaction it will reflect poorly on the Commander."

John scowls. "And then what? What happens if I mess it up? What am supposed to be _doing_ anyway?"

"Worshippers who are brought as companions come for several reasons," the Holder explains. "It can be as a symbol of status. Most worshippers are not sworn to a single Wraith but can be exchanged between all members of a party, or given to Wraith of other hives. It can be as a contingency, in case a Wraith hungers," the Holder continues. John feels slightly sick. "Though, especially those worshippers who are sworn to a Wraith or a queen are ones who are used as messengers or aides; they can be trusted with tasks that other worshippers cannot. And they can provide companionship for Wraith who are in situations where it is not prudent to bring other Wraith."

"Companionship?" John asks. He's definitely not flushed, but he's also not really looking at the Holder.

"In this situation, where the Commander goes to another's territory to meet another commander of another queen, to bring many Wraith with him suggests that he does not trust his host and may be plotting against him and his queen. While humans do not possess the same mental presence as Wraith, they are better than nothing." The Holder shrugs. "It will seem standard that he brings you, and perhaps one Wraith."

"So just _mental_ companionship?" John asks leadingly.

The Holder frowns like he has no idea what John means.

"If you do misstep," the Second says, addressing John's other concern, "the Commander will be given opportunity to correct you."

"Many Wraith will kill a worshipper who displeases them," the Holder observes, turning to this new topic. "But it will be noted that he is fond of you and they will not expect him to give you harsh punishment."

Which is great but John wonders, "What _will_ they expect?"

"Denial of the Gift, administration of pain, physical restraint, feeding without restoration, casting out," the Holder lists off.

John tenses more and more as the list goes on. "And how many of these meetings and I expected to sit through without messing up?"

"Do not worry about that," the Second says in a way that John thinks is supposed to be reassuring. "It is more likely you will be sent out to a room with other worshippers."

"Great." Even less than being around other Wraith does he want to speak to _real_ worshippers. "Won't that blow my cover?" The Second cocks his head in question. "They'll know I'm not addicted."

"You act it well enough. " The Second seems unconcerned.

"The other Commander is a bigger threat," the Holder agrees. "He is the host of the meeting and as such can set the rules he wishes."

"But he won't," the Second interrupts. "He can demand to feed from a visiting worshipper, but he will not," the Second assures John. "And the Commander will not allow it."

"Even if he has to?" John demands. He's not going to believe that Todd is going to jeopardize his working relationship with this other Commander because John might feel squeamish.

"If the other Commander does demand it, it will be early on, when it will be easy enough to withdraw. If he attempts it later all the Wraith will despise him for it. The Commander will be able to talk to them and have them support his side."

John relaxes a bit. Having seen Todd end up at the top of the Wraith hierarchy, commanding a hive only months after having been imprisoned for years, John's fairly confident in Todd's ability to talk himself around a situation. "Okay. What else do I need to do?"

The two Wraith look at each other. "Be respectful, but otherwise, as long as you are besotted with the Commander, they will permit you much," is the Holder's assessment.

"There's no way that will work," John mutters. "They're not going to buy it."

"They will," the Holder assures him.

"Let us say you are caught wandering around," the Second bares his teeth, familiar with John's team's ways. "It is likely that they will return you to the Commander for 'punishment,' which he will distribute as a withholding of the Gift." He holds out his left hand, as if to say, _and you see how this benefits you_.

"Okay," John does see how the usual "punishments" will be things he doesn't mind losing. "But I don't know if I can be that... to... the Commander."

The Second laughs. "What did you do in his quarters earlier?"

"I was testing it out, to see if it would work," John says defensively.

"It worked," the Second assures him. The Holder tilts his head, and the Second must share the image with him.

"Ah," the Holder says, impressed. "I did wonder why you felt so confident he would be capable of the deception, but now I see."

John's hands are fisted. "It doesn't mean anything," he protests. "It's a mission. To get intel."

The Second looks at him almost pityingly. "Of course." He turns back to the Holder.

"We will cover a small list of Wraith symbols you should be familiar with," the Holder says. "But I believe you will be ready when we arrive."

John takes a deep breath.

* * *

After spending what he's going to call the afternoon with the Holder and the Second learning what they think he's going to need to know to get by in his part, the Second returns him to Todd's room.

There's food on a tray sitting on a table when they arrive, and John's stomach growls.

The Second looks at him, amused. "I will leave you. The Commander will come to you here, later. You may venture out into the hive if you wish but remember to wear the fullness of your deception."

John glares at him. "I want this to work," he mutters. "We need the intel." His stomach tries to turn over and he can't tell if it's because he's hungry or if he's worried about the mission.

The Second gives him an expression John feels would be more at home under a raised eyebrow and leaves.

John moves closer to the tray and surveys a bowl of thick stew, a chunk of bread, and a fruit he's never seen before cut open and laid out artfully.

The stew is actually really good, far more flavorful than he was expecting, and filling. He mops the bowl clean with the bread and eats the sweet fruit as his "dessert."

When he's done, he paces restlessly around the room. He finds what appears to be a toilet and shower behind a door in the back, but other than going through Todd's closets there's not much to do.

He also startles up what seems to be a colony of small lizards, each about the size of a finger, that are collected in a corner of the room. They skitter away from his scrutiny, looking back at him with large luminous eyes and opening tiny mouths to bare sharp teeth. They remind him of the spiders that seemed to always find their way into the cracks of the barracks to set up their webs, though not usually in quick moving groups like this. One of the lizards has something in its mouth but it swallows the prize before John can see what it is.

John leaves off exploring and kneels beside the table to open his duffel. Everything's still there; it looks like Todd didn't go through it while John was sleeping. Or, if he did, he was very good at putting everything back exactly where it had been, even the P90 and its extra clips. John reaches out to Atlantis to see if it can tell him anything about who handled the bag, but it's not in a helpful mood and only gripes that John is far away. He sighs and pulls the tablet he brought out of its pocket and wastes maybe an hour putting in and labeling all the Wraith symbols the Holder had made him learn. He'd already been familiar with some of them, but it's always nice to have confirmation as to their meanings. He's sure Elizabeth, and the anthro team, will enjoy the information.

He slides the tablet back into the bag and pulls out the knife Todd gave him. It's shaped a bit like a butterfly knife, with a split handle that fits around the blade to cover it until it's flipped open for stabbing, and he practices with it for a few minutes. The blade is incredibly sharp; John could probably do some serious damage with it, even on a Wraith. He flips it closed and slides it into his pocket. Ronon's knife is a short blade with a general purpose drop-point favored by hunters; he wonders what opponents Todd expects him to face where the butterfly's long, thin blade will be necessary.

He finds a clear spot in the corner to do some calisthenics. His appreciation for the clothes Todd gave him is growing; they fit like a glove, moving with his body and folding around him, and have kept him warm in the cool hive but also don't become stifling as he deliberately works up a sweat.

Afterward, Todd still isn't back. If John had known how much downtime he was going to have he would have brought a book or something, but it's not like he's so desperate for the company that he's going to go _looking_ for Todd.

But he could explore the hive, see what he finds. It’ll help him work on his disguise in a relatively low stakes environment and get used to being around Wraith- and around the things that are around Wraith. He glances back at the coven of lizards he’d disturbed. One of them is crouched on the edge between the wall and the ceiling, half upside down and watching him. John rolls his eyes.

He steps out the door and into the passageway. It’s dark and dank, as expected. John orients himself and makes his way back down the same way that the Second had taken him earlier. He doesn’t intend to seek out the onboard worshipper community, but he remembers a lesser traveled crossway that he thinks leads to an area he’d questioned the existence of last year, when the Expedition had had their own hive for a hot second. He's excited to see what it looks like in a living, working hive.

He keeps his eyes downcast as he walks, though he stays aware of his surroundings. But apparently the word is out about him because the Wraith he sees barely glance at him before dismissing him.

The location in question is right where he'd thought it would be, and, as he'd hoped, it looks totally different.

It's a huge room lengthwise, though not terribly tall or wide. The ceiling can't be more than eight feet high and the width is definitely under twenty feet, most of that taken up by two separated areas down each side of the room. But the length of the room, if it's the same as the other hive, stretches the entire length of the hive. The one they'd found on their hive had been empty; Lorne had suggested that the long room was some sort of ballast to help the ship orient gravity, Caldwell had suggested it was a shortcut pathway to get from one end of the ship to the other more quickly and without running into anyone else. Looking at it now, John can see neither of them were close.

The center of the room is a corridor just wide enough for two to walk abreast and he steps from the other passageway out into it. But the main function of the room, what they hadn't been able to figure out, is that it's a garden. What had been hip-high walls, blocking off empty space to either side of the corridor in the other hive, is here some sort of tank with a lattice covering the top. There are green plants growing out of the lattice and leaning their leaves on it; John looks down and sees that there is an inner layer that hangs down from the lattice that appears to be basically a seed tray. Roots trail down from there and into a stream of what looks like water, but probably isn't, or at least not purely. There are vines growing up the walls of the room, so thick in places John can't even see the walls of the hive. They are twined with the interior of the hive itself, and the ceiling as they hang down over his head.

"Huh." John draws in a deep breath; he's kind of expecting the air in here to be... clearer, give him that oxygen high, but it doesn't, it's just as clear as the rest of the hive. The doorway he came through, which he knows from the other hive is a feature repeated in several places down the length of the ship, and the slight breeze he feels must be features of an air circulation system; the plants are dispensing oxygen to the entire hive.

"Welcome," a voice says.

John spins around. There's a young woman walking down the passageway toward him. She's not tall, but she has a calm, confident presence that makes her seem taller until she gets close to him. Her dark brown hair is tied in a bun at the back of her head and her clothes are very similar in style to his own though dyed dark purple-black. She's giving him a skeptical look and she has a large basket strapped over her shoulder, which appears to be half full of large grey fruits he's never seen before.

"Uh, hi," John replies belatedly. "I didn't know anyone was down here." The last is said almost questioningly; he's not sure if he needs a reason to be here.

"I'm sorry if I am intruding on your meditation," the woman says. She bows her head in a very Wraith-like manner and steps back, to return the way she came.

"No, wait." John motions her to continue past him. "I don't want to be in your way." He gestures to her basket them glances around at the greenery. "Can I give you a hand?"

She eyes him for a long moment before nodding in acquiescence.

John looks at the vines on the walls and doesn't see any of the fruit she's holding. "Where do you find those?"

She smirks, brown eyes amused. "This way." She leads him down the passage a bit farther to where the hanging vines are heavy with fat, orange flowers. She peels the flower petals away to expose one of the round fruits in her basket.

John tries one. The petals are soft to the touch but tough, and he peels them back to reveal the grey fruit. "Huh," he says again. Apparently, the hive hasn't _quite_ stopped surprising him.

The woman seems still amused by him, and he says, "I'm John. What's your name?"

Her expression clouds for a moment, and she says, "Marije." She hesitates like it's not her real name, but she doesn't flinch; it's less like it's a fake name and more like she's waking up from a dream and hadn't remembered it right away. "You must be new to the hive," she observes.

"Because everybody here knows everybody?" he guesses.

"Because everyone here knows what bellfruit is," she corrects. She gives him a conspiratorial look. "Try one," she suggests.

John's getting the vibe that that might not be what he wants to do. "Maybe later?"

Marije laughs. "Not that new after all," she teases. She sets the fruit in her basket. "They are very sweet," she explains, "but the uncooked juice is practically indelible on skin. Once boiled and then left to set, it works well as a dye for cloth." She touches her own sleeve in reference to its dark color.

"I was wondering where the dye came from, why purple," John murmurs. He looks at the dark cloth of her sleeve, as good as black. "Don't suppose the Wraith get their tattoos from the same source?"

Marije tilts her head in question. "The markings? No, the Eternal Ones' markings are made with a different pigment. The bellfruit does not achieve such a dark color when used on skin. It is a more vibrant purple color." She grins, an expression John returns ruefully. Marije continues, "But it is best that you do not try the bellfruit, as you are leaving with the Commander soon."

He stills. "You _do_ know who I am."

She spreads her left hand in a very Wraith-like gesture. "News travels quickly in a small hive like this one. And what the Commander is up to is news." She eyes him again and smiles.

John's not sure where to take it from there. If the Second thinks he's going to be spending time with a bunch of other worshippers, then maybe he can practice one-on-one with Marije before he gets to that point. "I'm pretty new to this," he confesses. Like the people in the room before, Marije is significantly less vacant-eyed and waify than he would expect in a worshipper, given his previous experience. "I'm a little worried about messing up," he adds.

She nods like that's a completely normal way to feel.

John signs internally and, as he carefully pulls open another flower and then follows Marije to another group of the same plant, tries to think of something that might draw her out more.

But she surprises him by offering, "The Commander has returned to the hive only recently. He has been gone since before I was born, but everyone who remembered him welcomed his return." She eyes John. "I do not know him well, as he has never sought out our company, but all speak of him as fair. I do not think you need worry."

"Thanks." John smiles at her. "It sounds like you were born on the hive?"

She nods. "My mother says it is not common," she says. "Worshipper communities are often not as well-established as ours."

John rubs the material of the flower petal between his fingers. "Do you get a choice?" Marije gives him a strange look and he elaborates, "About being a worshipper. If you were born here, do they give you a choice about whether, you know, the _lifestyle_ is for you."

Marije laughs like he's the one being stupid. "I live my life as any person does. What 'lifestyle' do you refer to?"

"Letting Wraith feed on you, willingly."

"It would be an honor, to be able to offer sustenance to one of the Eternal Ones." Marije picks the last flower from this group of vines and peels the petals back swiftly, practiced enough that she doesn't need to look at the work she does. She tosses the petals into the stream and it carries them away, to what John assumes is, eventually, some sort of water treatment area. "But I have not been Chosen." She settles the bellfruit in her now full basket and looks at John. "I will return these to the preparation area. Farewell, John."

"Wait," John calls. "I'll go with you." She frowns. "At least as far as where I came in," he hedges.

She nods. "Very well."

They walk in silence for a bit, before John can't stop himself from asking, "What if the Wraith can't stop himself, and he takes all your life and you die?"

Marije shoots him an odd look. "Then your spirit will go to the ancestors and you will be remembered."

"You wouldn't get, I dunno, _annoyed_ that the Wraith _ate_ you?"

"Life is not a guarantee, John," she replies. "If by my life I can aid another, then I consider that a good thing." She shrugs. "Even if the particular instance you describe is not one that I would choose."

He jumps on that. "What if you could choose? What if you didn't have to live with the Wraith always threatening to eat you?"

"Do you choose your life?" Marije seems curious and amused by his questions, which is better than offended but not the revolutionary thinking he was kind of hoping for.

"Yes," John tells her.

"You chose where you were born?" Marije pushes.

"Well, no, but-"

She holds out her left hand in the same gesture as before, and John falls silent.

"I have made my choices, and I am well with them." Marije pauses and turns to look him up and down fully. "You are a strange person, John. I wish you well with the Commander." He moves to speak, but she points to the plants above them and then to the entrance in the wall. "This is where I found you, and that is likely the path you seek."

John looks at it. "Yeah." He looks back at Marije. "Thanks." He's not sure what else to say, so he just watches as she turns and continues walking down the passageway.

While he doesn't feel he was successful in getting her to see his point, he supposes Marije has given John some useful talking points for his disguise.

He makes his way thoughtfully back through the hive to Todd's room.

He enters to find the room still empty.

John frowns. It's hard to tell what kind of schedules Wraith use, but it feels like Todd's been gone a really long time. John jokingly wonders if Todd is avoiding him. He sighs and lays down on the bed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully chapters will come more quickly for a bit after this.  
> Thanks again to Mavet, for pretty much holding my hand through this fic and assuring me that it doesn't make as little sense as I seem convinced that it does.

John's not that tired, so instead of sleeping he just dozes, waking entirely when he hears the door open as Todd returns _finally_. John rolls out of the bed and- as he had before- falls to his knees on the floor, the word "Master," on his lips.

He's not prepared for Todd to snarl, " _Get up_."

John stands up, startled. Todd's alone, and so John says, "What the hell."

Todd stalks up to him. He looks like his long day has him in a pretty shitty mood, and he looms over John, his eyes hard and golden. He stares at John. "I did not anticipate that I would enjoy this so little," he says, and he sounds disappointed.

"What the _hell_?" John says, louder. He's confused and maybe about to get angry about it.

"Are you broken already, Sheppard?" Todd sneers.

"Fuck you," John offers.

Todd inhales, a sound of approval almost like a hiss slipping from him.

"It's called playing a part," John says. He glares at Todd. "You totally bought it too, so bravo to me." He's not really down with letting people loom over him, so he keeps pushing. "Did you think I wasn't going to be able to do it? Is that why you agreed to this?" He's disappointed in his own turn.

Todd leans back, his chin tilted up as he looks at John through narrowed eyes. "What part do you play at, Sheppard?"

"Pretending to be a worshipper," John replies. "Isn't that why we're doing _any_ of this? What you said was the _only_ way we could get someone to the planet with the repository?"

Todd curls his lip in a truly impressive snarl. "Ahh," he says, "so you play at _all_ of it." He steps forward again, crowding John back, his right hand rising.

John gives a step, but he's starting to get really annoyed, and he stops there, shoving back against Todd, one hand tangling in his coat. "Of course I'm _playing_ ," he says, too loudly now. "You said yourself it was too soon for me to feel the enzyme addiction, never mind need _Atlantis_ ' help to keep my head on straight when we _get_ to that point."

Todd halts. "To become dependent on the enzyme takes time. One feeding would not do it. But a single feeding can break the spirit of a weak human." He cocks his head, eyes narrow.

"You think I-" John stops talking and thinks about his actions from Todd's point of view. "Okay, I can kind of see where you got that impression," he allows. "But let me just reiterate, _fuck_ no."

Todd bares his teeth in what seems like an approving smile, but the expression is fleeting. "You seemed weaker than I remembered you, and I am pleased to have been mistaken in this," he murmurs, but his eyes narrow in wariness. "And yet, you speak of Atlantis assisting you." Todd pulls away from John's hand and raises his own right hand in a way that seems like it's definitely intended to be a threat. "You have planned with them to come to you, even after I warned you that they could not successfully penetrate into the Queen's territory?"

" _No_ ," John retorts. His tone probably isn't convincing, but he kind of really hopes Todd believes him. John takes a deep breath; this isn't something he talks about a lot, and for good reason usually, but weirdly Todd being so _disappointed_ that John had maybe been rendered totally passive by his second encounter with the Gift of Life makes him want to trust Todd with the information. "When I spoke of Atlantis, I meant the actual city of Atlantis. It has a... mind, I guess." It still feels weird to talk about, even after years of trying to get used to it. "I can communicate with it." He makes a face. "I _suppose_ it's like Wraith can talk with each other? But the point is, if something happened and I lost my focus on the mission, Atlantis could make sure the information we need was still able to be used by my people back in the city."

Todd looks impressed. "You came on this mission not expecting to return to your home?" he murmurs. "Did you come expecting death?" He eyes flash. "Betrayal?"

"I trust you," John says, and he believes it. "But I'm less certain about whoever else we run into."

Todd regards him. "That is wise," he allows. He leans back and regards John. "I am surprised that you would extend trust to me," he observes.

John flushes and says gruffly, "Well, I'm here, aren't I?" He folds his arms over his chest, but that only reminds him that his shirt covers less than he's used to. "I wouldn't have come if I thought you weren't going to at least _get_ me there."

"John Sheppard," Todd murmurs, stepping closer. "I believe it will be accurate to say that I will do everything I am able to do to deliver you to your prize."

John braces himself to keep from pulling back, and inhales sharply when Todd's right hand rises until the pads of his fingers rest against John's collarbone, just to the side of the hollow of his throat. John's heart is beating wildly in his ears, and it feels like his whole body is racked with the shudder of the in-draw of his breath, he's so hypersensitized to this moment.

Todd lets his fingers follow the line of John's collarbone out toward his shoulder, but when they reach the point where flesh is covered by cloth they pull away.

John's pretty sure he doesn't whine, but he definitely exhales in disappointment.

"This... is part of your deception?" Todd asks.

John flushes red, it's entirely outside of his control. He shakes his head in denial. It takes a long moment before he can look up and meet Todd's gaze.

Todd is looking at him, his eyes narrowed in appraisal.

John swallows. "The whole bit where I kneel on the floor and call you 'master' and shit? That's just me practicing for looking starry-eyed when I need to impress the people we're going to meet that they don't have to worry about me. It's not real." Todd nods. "The way I... respond, to you. When I..." John licks his lips. "That's not _not_ real."

"Hmm," Todd observes. He leans in, his sensory pits and nostrils flaring as they pass over John's skin, and in that moment John hates how much he is smitten by the alienness of the gesture. He's thinking about how much pressure it would take to break skin with those wicked looking teeth and he shivers.

John pulls his thoughts back. He has a mission. That takes priority.

Todd is watching him carefully. "Do you wish for the Gift?" Todd asks.

John wants to say yes, but he knows that's the high talking. "Do I need it? I mean, to fool the others?"

Todd sighs, a sound that's both hopeful and resigned. "We should share once more, before you are introduced to other Commanders."

John nods. If he waits and they do it right before they arrive he'll probably be extra loopy right when he shouldn't be. That's a solid reason. "Now," he breathes. "Let's do it now."

Todd's lips part and he inhales raggedy in his own turn. "You are certain?" he asks. His hand is reaching for John's chest, but he holds himself.

"Yes," John says. _I need to, to complete the mission_ , he thinks, but the words feel less true to him than they have before. He _wants_ it, the rush. He hates the wasting drain, but the return… it's like hurtling through the air at 200 mph.

"Wait." John takes a breath, and he's kind of amazed at the way Todd's hand, about to lock on to his chest, immediately halts frozen in the air. "I can't… I want it so much, are you sure…"

It's a collection of mumbled nonsense, but Todd chuckles. He sounds amused and the most chill he's been since he entered the room, and he says, "The only way to see the destination will be to go through the portal."

His hand rests against John's chest. John can feel the pulsing heat of the handmouth against his skin. He hates it, and he hates that he doesn't totally hate it.

"Sheppard," Todd murmurs.

John says, "Yes, dammit, _fuck_ , _do_ it."

He feels the bite as the claws latch on, and the soul-dragging drain as the life leaves him. His fingers are wrapped around fistfuls of Todd's coat, and he holds on. He feels Todd's left arm come around him, cradling him, and he can hear Todd humming, a penetrative sound that fills him, makes him want to believe that everything is going to be alright even as he is most certainly dying.

The reverse is less abrupt than last time. He just inhales, and suddenly he's not dying anymore, he's pulling life into himself with every heartbeat, his legs suddenly able to hold his weight, and he shoves forward, leaning against Todd. He's gasping against Todd's throat, his face buried against Todd's skin, every breath pulling the alien scent of him into John's senses, and John moans.

Todd shifts to look at John, but John can't look back at him, can't open his eyes and acknowledge that this is really happening, so he just screws his eyes shut and concentrates on breathing.

"Sheppard," Todd says. He touches John's shoulder as if trying to rouse him. "We should speak."

The door of the quarters opens. Todd turns to snarl at whoever it is.

John realizes that _actually_ being drugged out makes it really hard to want to act deferential, and it takes way too long for his mind to process that he should probably _not_ be locked in a passionate embrace with the hive's Commander. But when he tries to let go and step back, Todd's strong hold stops him from moving.

"My apologies, Commander." The Wraith who's interrupted them seems to be a junior officer and he sounds really nervous. "You did not indicate that you had heard the Second's communication. We have arrived at the planet."

John inhales softly. They're here a lot faster than he'd thought they'd be.

As if abruptly reminded of his presence, Todd releases him and John staggers back a step while his equilibrium complains about no longer being held against a firm body.

“The Second is well aware that I will attend him when it pleases me,” Todd tells the nervous officer with a bit of a growl in his voice, and the officer takes the opportunity to flee.

They’re alone again and John says, “So.” He swallows. “We’re there.”

Todd looks about as annoyed as he’d been earlier, and John hopes that’s not directed at him.

“Yes,” Todd replies. He steps back and looks at John. “Are you… prepared?”

“Yep," John replies. Todd looks doubtful, and John explains, “The Holder seems to think I am, and that even if I mess something up, they’ll cut me some slack because I…” He stops himself. “Because you have a reputation for being a little outside of the box.”

Todd cocks his head. “A box? Curious.” He touches John’s cheek.

The movement seems unconscious, and John has to fight back a desire to lean into it. “And I met another worshipper when I was wandering around earlier and got some pointers." Todd looks thoughtful and silence stretches between them for a moment. John pushes, "Are we… good?" He noticed the tension earlier and he asks, "Everything good with your Second?”

Todd bares his teeth and sighs. "He has been… amusing himself at my expense over this mission of yours and has become an absolute nuisance." His eyes trail over John before returning to his face. "If you do not wish to continue in this mission, you may yet remain here," he offers.

John inhales. He gets what Todd doesn't quite say- this is likely John's last opportunity for an out. "No." He meets Todd's gaze. "I'm set."

Todd nods. "Very well."

"Hey," John says before he can stop himself, "Just so we're clear, the mission is more important than me. If, if you need to do something to make sure they buy it you don't have to wait for me to say yes. I'm giving you a blanket ' _yes'_ now, in advance, for all those situations."

Todd narrows his eyes and leans forward into John's space. He inhales slowly; John can imagine him drawing John's essence into his senses and he shivers.

"There _is_ a way that you could communicate your desires to me, in such a situation," Todd observes.

John's thoughts immediately go to his other "desires" and he flushes. "Yeah?"

Todd lifts his left hand to his temple, and then moves it to touch John's face again. Todd's broad fingers feel cool against his heated skin. "I can sense the shape of your thoughts, but if you allowed me closer, into your mind, I could know the specific form of them, what you desire and do not desire."

John thinks about these words, shoving down both his instinctive refusal and his equally as immediate response of _god yes_. The _yes_ he attributes to the residual effects of the Gift of Life. His refusal is partially personal and partially professional- the information about Atlantis contained in his thoughts could be vastly useful to a potential foe. But Atlantis has already set up camp in his head, and the city can protect itself. It likes Wraith even less than most _people_ in Pegasus, and, while accommodating, has always been rather perplexed by John's draw to this particular Wraith. So then there's just his personal reservations- opening himself to his thoughts being known, and potentially controlled, by the Wraith. Not something that's really appealing, given the majority of Wraith he's come across, and also just generally, given other things he's seen. He doesn't want to lose himself to an outside influence that might take him over. But that's _him_ , and, as he's already stated, the mission is more important.

And anyway, it's not _the_ Wraith he's opening himself to, it's _a_ Wraith. _This_ Wraith. Todd.

Todd's a tricky customer sometimes, but John does trust him to not… to not be _cruel_. And he'd seemed so disappointed earlier, that John might not be up to the challenge he'd proposed. John doesn't expect Todd to give a shit about Atlantis, or protecting Earth, but he does think Todd will be straight with him as far as this mission is concerned.

"Okay," John hears himself say. He's a little surprised that he sounds so certain about this.

Todd's fingers move down his face to cup John's chin and John shudders at the feeling of them stroking through the rough growth of his beard. If Todd wants to know his thoughts, he might get more than he bargained for.

Todd holds John's gaze with his own and John looks into the golden depths of his eyes. "Relax your mind," Todd purrs. "And allow it to move against mine."

John's thoughts are, unsurprisingly, completely filthy with _that_ image, and he breaks Todd's gaze to lean in and scent his way up the Wraith's neck. "Relaxed," he murmurs.

He feels Todd's answering rumble against his chest and he wonders if Todd means the way his words sound flirty. John hasn't seen or heard anything to suggest that Wraith are legitimately interested in doing the devil's tango, with humans in general or with male on male action in specific. It's probably just him, projecting.

Todd shifts his weight. "What is 'tango'?" he asks, amused. _"I think I would enjoy it with you, Sheppard, though if it is possessed of someone else already, perhaps there are other things we could explore?"_

John whips back from where he's pressed against Todd's chest and stares up at him. He can feel a… it feels like the crawling sensation of being watched but it's crawling on his _brain_. "How…" That's not really the question he wants. "That's you? The… crawling on my brain."

"I cannot say what it feels like Sheppard, as I have never before encountered a human interested in discussing the matter," is Todd's entirely bland reply, though his gaze is sharp.

"You can read my thoughts," John says.

"At your invitation," Todd reminds him.

John snorts. "It's an expression," he explains. "The tango doesn't _belong_ to the devil, that's just what people say."

It's Todd's turn to blink. "You... heard the words of _my_ thoughts?"

"Yes?" John replies hesitantly. "Was I not supposed to?"

Todd stares at him. _"Reply aloud in answer to this question, Sheppard- what is the name of your teammember I found on the ruined hive?"_

"Ford," John replies. "What is going on?"

The tenor of Todd's watching eyes on his brain changes to contain a thrill of excitement. _"Can you reply, mentally?"_

 _"I guess. You heard me when I wasn't really thinking words_ at _you anyway,"_ John tries.

"I have never encountered a human that was so organized in their thoughts as to be capable of comprehending mental speech and replying with words instead of impressions," Todd says. His inner excitement doesn't boil over into his voice; instead he sounds conspiratorial.

"Gee thanks." John's just being an ass, but then he thinks about Atlantis. _"It could be because of Atlantis? It's taught me how to have mental conversations?"_

 _"if that is the case then it has made a certain aspect of this mission a great deal simpler."_ Todd grins. He looks, and feels, really pleased about this.

John realizes that, with Todd in his head, it's harder to lie to himself about how happy it makes him that Todd is happy. His instinctive alarm at that thought must wake up Atlantis, because the city surges to the forefront of his thoughts and blocks out everything, or everyone, else.

Todd frowns.

John inhales. "Guess it needs some work. But it's a start."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Mavet for being an awesome beta, and making a suggestion that gave me a fun idea! :)

He and Todd don't get much more done in the way of talking before they leave the hive. Todd's attention is taken up with final preparations for his departure, and when John would maybe follow him around, just to have something to do instead of sitting still, the Holder appears and hands him a bag.

It's like a satchel, with a single long strap to hang off his shoulder and a flap that folds over the top to close rather than a zipper or any fastening. It's made of the same woven cloth as the worshipper clothes and dyed a rich, royal purple. "These are supplies for your journey," the Holder explains. "As you are traveling to a place that is not a hive, you cannot count on the presence of a local worshipper community to assist in providing for your needs, and so will need to provide for yourself."

John opens the bag and looks inside. There are what looks like a couple spare garments tucked in one side, but most of it is various foods: dense flatbread, some sort of vegetable cut into pieces that better fill the available space, what looks like dried fruit. "How long is this supposed to last me?" he asks. The Holder looks indifferent, so John changes the question to, "Can I bring my own stuff, or would that be too noticeable?"

"You may supplement with your own supplies if you wish. It is feasible that some items from Atlantis may have fallen into the hive's possession and be used by our worshippers so it will not betray your subterfuge."

John doesn't ask but he supposes other personal items, like his sidearm or tablet, are probably a no-go. Which is fine; he knew that going in, but it's affirmation that he's about to leave a "safe" place and head out into somewhere much more dangerous. His free hand touches the hidden knife that Todd gave him.

John sets the bag the Holder gave him on the floor next to his own and checks to see if there's anything he thinks he really needs to bring.

* * *

John's rechecking his bag when the Holder summons him to the shuttle to depart the hive.

Todd is waiting there with the Hive Master, who completes their party. Given what he'd learned earlier- yesterday?- John knows why Todd doesn't bring more Wraith, and he's glad that there aren't other worshippers he has to interact with at the moment, but he also kind of wishes Todd was bringing more in the way of backup. They're meeting other commanders who serve other queens, which seems like it's always a spark for conflict. John's not sure if Todd even has a queen; no one has spoken of her if there is one, which makes him think there isn't. Wraith queens don't do well with _not_ being the center of attention in his experience. Though, even if there was a queen that Todd served, she wouldn't be on this hive because bringing a queen would violate the terms of the meeting.

Seeing Todd again, John reaches out mentally; Atlantis curls a tendril against him in acknowledgement of his mental presence, but he gets nothing from Todd. Whatever mental connection they'd established before had been broken by Atlantis' interruption and has yet to return, even though John had explained to the city that having Todd in his head was actually _beneficial_ to the mission. He had thought that, _You don't mind him eating me, but you don't want him in my head?_ had been a particularly eloquent statement, and the guilt had seemed to work on Atlantis.

John fiddles with the shoulder strap of his bag as they enter the shuttle. It hums around them, and, with senses born of long experience, John feels the moment it leaves contact with the hive and becomes completely airborne.

The Hive Master is at the shuttle's controls, interacting with, John assumes, docking control at their destination. Todd is standing behind the Hive Master, looking over the other Wraith's shoulder, but his gaze is distant, like he's thinking about something else.

John's thinking about calling Todd's Hive Master "Gary." He's about to meet a bunch more Wraith and he wants to keep them straight in his head. _Gary_ , he tells Atlantis. _Mark that in the notes._ John's a little bit wary; of the three Wraith Todd had said that John can trust with his secret, the Hive Master is the one he hasn't really interacted with as of yet. But he's the one who's coming with to the planet. John supposes it makes sense; the Second probably runs things while Todd is gone, and the Holder deals principally with the worshippers and isn't interested in being a part of a long conversation with other commanders about how they're planning to fuck up Atlantis. Maybe "Kenny" for the Second. _Kenny and Gary. What do you think?_ he asks Atlantis.

Atlantis is unimpressed. _Come back. The Wraith are many here. I cannot keep you safe._ John feels something, like a flutter, like Atlantis is wringing its hands. _The outpost is dark to me until you wake it, I cannot help you there._

Well, that's interesting. Atlantis seems to be indicating that there is _something_ here, though possibly difficult to get to. If the access point to the database is too easy to find, then the Wraith would already have the information by now... unless they've been unable to access aspects of the facility without the ATA gene.

The shuttle doesn't have a viewscreen, but John can see, over the Hive Master's shoulder, the tactical display of the airspace above the planet, which is crowded with other ships. There are a couple hives, but also several cruisers. Each of them is sending their own representatives to this main Commander's meeting.

John's fingers tighten around the bag's strap. He needs to focus on getting through the first few hours without giving them away and being too worried about Ancient databases probably isn't going to be helpful. There's going to be a roomful of Wraith Commanders he has to fool. Though that shouldn't really be _hard_ ; he's still humming from Todd's sharing of the Gift and a vacant, happy stare isn't a difficult expression to maintain. He wonders how much grilling they're going to give him. He has a backstory for his persona, though he hasn't set up with Todd if the Wraith should call him something other than his name.

John lets his eyes rest on Todd again. Maybe the mental connection isn't working because it's Todd who hasn't reached back out to reestablish the link. In any case, the feeling of something crawling on his brain is gone for the moment. Which is kind of a shame, because this is time that would be well spent in strengthening their ability to communicate silently. Or in at least understanding it better. John glares at the back of Todd's head. _"You're the one who said we should talk,"_ he tries to send. Yeah, they had _talked_ , but it had only left John with more questions.

If Todd isn't going to be helpful, that just gives John time to focus on the mission. He coaxes Atlantis into chatting with him, finding the city more receptive than Todd in this case. _What can you tell me about the place we're going?_

The city ripples, uncurling from the back of his mind like an octopus. _Old and dark_ , is its insightful commentary, but it does add, _Big_.

 _Big_? John asks, and with that prodding Atlantis gives him a mental map. John has seen the original schematics that the outpost on P3X-247 had held of the repository, and the planetary system maps the commander had sent to Todd concerning the meeting, but Atlantis somehow lays them over each other to give him more information while the map is also still full of gaps and holes. This is the extent of what Atlantis knows; the only way to fill in those holes is to query the base system itself.

 _Will this base wake for me?_ John asks Atlantis. _The way you did?_

 _I was waiting for you,_ Atlantis says dreamily. _This station... it is still dead._

Parsing the city sometimes takes a bit of effort, but John translates that Atlantis had been in a sort of standby mode when they arrived while that the base is going to take a bit more effort before there's anything useful his ATA gene can do with it. Fair enough; turning on gadgets in front of the other Wraith would probably only lead to questions John doesn't want to answer anyway.

Perusing the map of the information he does have, John sees that the base that holds the repository is located on a moon orbiting a gas giant. There's no Stargate in the system, which seems poorly thought out when establishing a base, though who knows what the Ancients were thinking; maybe there used to be one, and it was moved elsewhere when the base was abandoned. There is no habitable area on the moon outside of the base the Ancients plopped down; the moon has only a thin atmosphere, and strong winds that blow over crystalline rocks to make periodic dust storms which are high in sulfur content. The base itself, if John remembers correctly, was initially set here with the purpose of observing the system's star, and John can see that influence in the way it's designed. The main section of the base, rather than Atlantis' towers, is centered around a large, circular dome. There is an area for landing transport ships, and then the rest of the base is underground. John frowns as he sees the extent of it that Atlantis shows to him. Yeah, huge parts of it might as well say "here be dragons" for all that he can tell if the base is composed of hallways or large rooms, but he can at least see the extent of it. If he has to really search for access to the repository, it's not going to be a quick or easy search. Atlantis helpfully points out that there are separate outposts on the planet as well; observatories for gathering scientific data and which can only be accessed by transporter. The transporter doesn't work, unless John can figure out how to wake up the base and hope everything still functions after ten thousand years. _Access to an important repository probably isn't going to be stuck in an outpost,_ John tells Atlantis, mostly to reassure himself that he doesn't have to fix any tech on his own without Rodney.

The shuttle settles onto the landing platform, and John brings his thoughts back to the present moment. Todd rouses himself like John wasn't the only one whose thoughts were drifting; he looks around at John and holds out his nearer hand, the left one, his long fingers sliding over John's jaw as Todd's hand curls against John's cheek.

Gary in the pilot's seat is part of the cover up, so John's not sure if this is meant to be something he responds to in character or not, but he splits the difference by nuzzling into Todd's hand and giving him a dirty look under the cover of gazing up at him adoringly.

Todd smirks. "I hope you are ready; we appear to have arrived."

His voice sends a shiver up John's spine, but John suppresses it and just nods in reply. He settles his bag over his shoulder and bows his head, falling in behind Todd as Todd strides to the shuttle's exit. Gary holds back, to finish shutting down the shuttle from the landing sequence.

The landing bay outside the shuttle is very obviously Lantean in design. There are rows of berths for jumpers along the edge of the space, though they're currently empty. And the metallic deck beneath his shoes was also a clue, a difference from the hive. John keeps his face turned down, so the floor is an easy view as he follows Todd. 

Todd walks forward without stopping or turning, seeming to know where he's going. The Holder had told John that the Wraith here weren't likely to speak mentally, as they aren't hive to each other, but someone seems to be telling Todd where to go. John just follows, like a good little worshipper, and hopes that Frank was more on point with his information about everyone cutting John some slack. The Holder seems like a Frank. John frowns. Maybe not. And this is _definitely_ the best time to have this mental debate because the only other thing he could be doing at this moment is obsessing about what lies ahead of them. Or trying to annoy Todd into mentally connecting with him again by thinking really loudly about how nice the Wraith's ass looks under the trim cut of his leather coat.

Todd halts so abruptly that for half a second John honestly thinks it was because of him. But he notices that the hallway they'd been walking down has opened to a larger room, and there are other Wraith present.

The room must be what lies under the central dome of the city that's visible from the surface scans of the planet. It's _huge_. There's nothing this big in Atlantis- the closest would be the jumper bay itself, though this room is far wider. John thinks it might have originally been a planetarium, because of the way the ceiling curves up toward the center where there's the remains of some sort of apparatus. But he pulls his attention back down to eye level.

There are four other separated groups of Wraith present in the room, gathered near the door he and Todd just entered by. They barely make a dent in the vastness of the room that stretches beyond them. Directly in front of the entrance, and the individual that Todd is looking at, a Wraith is seated in a chair like a throne.

The Wraith's shoulders are as wide as the chair, and even though he's seated he looks like he might be as tall as Todd when he stands, if not taller. His face is dominated by a tattoo mark on the left-center of his forehead in the shape of a knife. Under it, his eyes are hard and yellow, fixed as they are on Todd; his skin has a yellow undertone that on a human would look sickly but is fairly normal on a Wraith. His hair, hanging loose, barely brushes his shoulders. He bares his teeth- in a welcoming grin, John assumes- and it draws attention to the short, neat white hairs of his beard that are thick on his chin but not long enough to reach beyond it. As he is seated like a king to greet them, John assumes this is their host. All the Wraith are standing around like they're waiting to see if they made the Hall of Fame list, and John toys with the idea of calling their host "Brett."

"Ah, the Commander who serves no queen," Brett drawls, and Todd inclines his head slightly, looking bored. John keeps his head down, but he's really impressed with Todd's cool, and he's also had one of his questions answered- there is no queen Todd is beholden to. Brett doesn't even look at John.

Todd glances around at the other groups present.

At Brett's right hand is a group of four Wraith. The Commander is a shorter Wraith, his skin a darker green. His sleek hair is slightly longer than Todd's, though he is clean shaven and tattooed on his chin with a single vertical line flanked by a trio of spots like someone dropped ink on his face. John names him Elmer, and his three companions Jim, Don, and Harry for good measure. The four of them stand close together, and there are no humans with them.

At Brett's left hand is a Wraith with extremely long hair that reaches past his waist; his beard is also two long strands. He has his arms folded as he looks at Todd with something that is either disapproval or nervousness, John can't tell, and the swirled tattoo on his upper lip and right cheek twitches. He has one Wraith standing behind him; John dubs them Drew and Roger. Three humans stand with them, all of them with bags similar to John's over their shoulders, though the bags and their clothing are all dyed uniformly black. There are two men and a woman; the older of the men has a stocky build and pale hair, the younger one and the woman have the same longer brown hair done in the same style which looks better on the woman's oval face and willowy shape. The woman is looking off vacantly at nothing, but the two men look back at John as he looks at them. He moves his attention quickly on to the last group.

The group farthest from Brett, and practically standing even with John's right hand, is comprised of only two individuals: one Wraith and one human. The Wraith is tall, probably shorter than Todd though it's hard to tell without them next to each other, and slimmer of build than Brett. His hair is braided at both temples to sweep back to the center of the back of his head, and his neat beard is also braided into a single plait. His eyes are dark and almost green as they take in John and Todd, contrasting with the blue undertones of his green skin and the more silver than white shade of his hair. He has a series of three marks tattooed down the left side of his face that remind John of Asian calligraphy, though the symbols are unlike any alphabet on Earth. The Wraith looks down at the human standing close to him, and John lets his gaze follow the same path before he settles on a name for this one.

The human is a young man with black hair and light brown skin. He's short, and extremely thin, but he has bright brown eyes that focus on John sharply, in a way the other humans hadn't, as he seems to look through John in search of something. John finds himself in return captivated by the man's clothing- he's the only one present whose shirt covers his entire chest. Though, it does seem to have the same wrap and tie format as John's own, so it can probably be opened quickly, but that still seems to show a lot of patience on the Wraith's part. The man looks away suddenly, turning back to the Wraith he stands with and communicating something to him with a twitch of his cheek that has the Wraith baring his teeth in amusement. John's eyes linger on them for a breath longer than the others.

It only takes a few seconds for John to case the room, and he's just pulling his attention back to Brett when Todd responds, "And you are the Commander who serves the Queen of the Endless Starfield." He spreads the fingers of his left hand. "If we came here to discuss that which we already know, I will find that this assemblage quickly becomes," he bares his teeth, "tiresome."

Brett doesn't look like he has any hive members present and grouped with him, but Elmer and the rest of the Four Horsemen hiss at Todd like they have Brett's back.

Brett laughs, a strident, booming sound. "We will come to the reason for our gathering soon. We await one more." He gestures to his right side, where there is an open space beyond Elmer and his hissy companions.

Todd holds out both hands to each side and gives a slight bow in a posture of deference and holds it until it's quite clear that his deference is a mockery, before he walks to the right, completely ignoring the Four Horsemen, who continue grumbling and hissing.

John follows Todd, vaguely aware of Gary entering and following with them. Todd and Gary exchange some mental words, and then Todd reaches out to lay his arm over John's shoulder, his right hand toying absently with John's hair.

John doesn't really have any idea what exactly playing his part involves- other than following Todd's lead, so that's what he does. He leans into Todd, letting his weight rest against the Wraith. This close, Todd can probably feel his heart racing, if he couldn't sense it already, though John exhales at the feel of Todd's fingers stroking through his hair and feels himself relax. He makes a soft, pleased sound in his throat, and looks at the others in the room from behind the shield of Todd's arm.

No surprise that Elmer and his group are looking at John like they wouldn't mind having him over for lunch. Brett is pretending that he doesn't notice Todd being affectionate, but he's quite obviously become interested in John with how hard he's failing at ignoring Todd. Drew is ignoring Todd much more thoroughly than Brett is, but his own worshippers look something between curious and appalled. Across from John, the last Wraith is looking at Todd with curiosity in his greenish-yellow eyes; his single worshipper is watching the doorway instead, presumably waiting for the last commander to join the party.

Thankfully they don't have to wait long, as another Wraith comes striding down the center of the passage. When he enters, he is followed by only a single other Wraith. John's impressed to see that this commander is at least as broad as Brett, and as tall as Todd. He has no hair on his head, his light green-grey skin shining under the overhead lighting. The thick black mark of a tattoo is spread over his lower left cheek and chin, in a shape that resembles a "3" turned sideways. He grins boldly at Brett, and Brett greets him with a grin. John decides the new guy looks like a "Troy."

"You are late, my nest-brother." Brett spreads his hands, like he's introducing someone really important. "The Commander who serves the Queen of all the Distant Reaches."

Troy bows his head. "It could not be helped, my nest-brother. But I am here, and ready to hear your plans."

Brett stands. "Then let us see them." He touches the arm of his chair and, as John had already suspected, the lights in the ceiling of the room darken and the surface is covered with a star map. John's looked at the same map in Atlantis often enough to recognize the spread of entire Pegasus galaxy.

"You are all aware of the return of the Lanteans," Brett begins, pacing around the chair and looking up at the stars. "They caused the hives to wake too early. Our hunting grounds have not been given proper time to replenish themselves."

With Todd's arm on his shoulder, John feels a shiver of complete surreality ripple up his spine. They're talking about _him_ , about what he did. John blinks, and he can almost see Sumner's sunken face at the other end of his barrel as he pulls the trigger.

Todd's fingers grab John's chin, pulling his eyes to meet Todd's. _"Sheppard,"_ he says, and John can feel his concern.

John flails out mentally, latching on to Todd and pulling him closer, though Atlantis responds to his alarm by trying to put up a barrier between them. _"Dammit, where have you been?"_ John asks.

 _"My apologies,"_ Todd says, but John can feel the amusement that colors his tone through the threads of concern. _"I was distracted with many thoughts on the shuttle, and I did not want to reach for you here, when others were looking at you, in case you responded poorly. But you seemed... unwell, just now."_

 _"I'm okay,"_ John says, and it might even be true enough that it'll pass muster. Todd's intervention has pulled him out of the memory, and that's the main thing.

Todd's gaze flickers behind John and he says, _"Our host's worshippers have arrived."_ John looks to see two more humans have entered the room. They are both dressed in paler cloth, like John, one with long, black hair who John thinks is a man but can't quite tell, and the other a man with a stocky build and short, curling hair. The long-haired individual is striding directly to Brett and the second man is approaching Drew's worshippers. After getting their attention he motions to the other single human present, and then turns lastly to John. Finding John already looking his way, Curly motions that John should follow him as he leads the other down a side passageway. _"While the Wraith speak,"_ Todd tells him, _"they will take you to where the worshippers have a place for you, to cook food and take care of other needs. I will find you later."_

John nods. He takes a deep breath and steps back, away from Todd.

Todd's fingers release his chin slowly as he pulls away, as if with a certain reluctance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought that Sheppard sounds like he's announcing the starting lineup of my hometown high school's football team when he's naming Wraith, so all of the Wraith at the meeting are named after (American) football players. Despite years of forced proximity and general cultural osmosis, I know nothing of note about football and googled the names, but I did recently rewatch "Hide and Seek" and so several of them are related to the term ["Hail Mary"](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hail_Mary_pass), which I thought would be something that would amuse Sheppard.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized as I was reading through this, that it is a chapter without any Todd. It was unintentional, but it's the way it is.  
> Many thanks to Mavet, who helped me with choosing an appropriate undercover name for Sir Not Appearing in this Chapter. <3

The curly haired worshipper smiles at John as he approaches. The man has a light and careless manner that is too close to the one that John's been trying to affect for it to be anything other than genuine. John tries to suppress the feeling of revulsion that runs through him- though it could also be excitement and he doesn't have time to parse that now. 

Curly leads the way, the three worshippers from Drew's hive following him. John follows next and, as the only other lone worshipper, it probably makes sense that the last man falls in next to John. John eyes his shirt and the way it closes all the way up to his neck; and John's not the only one- the older-looking guy from Drew's hive is giving both this other guy and John a weird look.

The other guy smiles at John. The expression isn't really friendly, but way more... present than the expression on Curly's face had been. 

"Hey," John says in what he hopes is a distant but not unfriendly manner. 

"My name is Rathin," the other guy says. 

John hadn't discussed with Todd about a fake identity and it's too late now. "John," he offers back.

Rathin smiles more warmly. They walk for a few minutes; the older, pale-haired worshipper from Drew's hive is asking Curly a question about the size of the facility. Since John already has more information than any of them possibly could about that topic he doesn't listen closely. Noticing his attention wandering, Rathin takes the opportunity to observe, "You seem very close with your Wraith." 

His tone indicates it's offered as an observation, not a leading question, but John's been around enough to hear that Rathin wants him to give an answer. He's not sure of the point behind the comment; Rathin has seemed close with his own Wraith Commander, more so than anyone else here, so is he seeking camaraderie or gossip? John's not sure of what he should admit to, so he agrees, "Closer than I am to any other Wraith here."

Rathin scowls like he gets the joke and it's not funny. John didn't intend it to be, so he doesn't comment. They walk a bit farther before Rathin tries again, asking, "What do you call him?" 

John looks at Rathin sidelong. "What do you call _your_ Wraith?" he counters. Rathin's Commander is the only Wraith in the room John hadn't named yet. He's not sure why. Something about the Wraith's expression had made him seem like someone who had more secrets than most of the Wraith in the room; like he might need more than one meeting to name properly.

Rathin replies, voice soft with fondness, "Silver."

John nods. "Descriptive," he allows; he'd thought that Silver's hair stood out as being darker than the usual Wraith.

Rathin gives a small smile and waits expectantly. 

John hesitates. "Todd" is _his_ name for Todd; it's private, and he's not going to tell it to anyone else before he tells it _to_ Todd. But Todd has a sort of defining feature and John presses his hand to his side, where the same star on Todd's face is stitched over his body. He begins, speculatively, "Astra-" and then realizes that he should probably be more confidently assertive when it comes to this issue, and the word ends in some sort of undefined consonant sound.

"Astral?" Rathin clarifies, then muses, "'Of the stars.' Very fitting. Silver says he is as old as the first Lanteans, so the old tongue suits him as well."

John frowns. "Silver knows T- um, Astral?"

"No, not at all." Rathin looks at John sidelong. "Silver is young to be a commander and is, as a result, somewhat focused on the status of others. Astral has a very subtle power that impresses Silver, and a control that speaks of his great age."

John makes a noncommittal sound. To have talked about this with his Wraith _after_ meeting Todd, Rathin and Silver must have had this conversation in the huge auditorium room, conducted silently with significant looks and flicks of fingers. That's totally _possible…_ but John wonders also if Rathin and Silver can converse mentally. He almost asks- but stops himself. What if the connection he has with Todd is anathema? Todd hadn't mentioned anything when he'd proposed it, but John knows Todd well enough to know that when he wants something, being outside the pale isn't going to stop him from having it. John shivers. If Todd _wanted_ to be in his head that badly… 

Atlantis swirls around his thoughts, distressed, and John reaches out to reassure the city that he's okay. Todd had mentioned others, so he's at least attempted it before. John wonders if he can float some hypotheticals past the other worshippers and see if he can get some opinions without saying anything too revealing.

They continue walking. No one else addresses John, though the other of the two men from Drew's hive shoots speculative looks back at him. Before John can think about it too much they have arrived at their destination. 

It's a room that was designed to be a kitchen; John recognizes sinks and burners not dissimilar to Atlantis. A glowery woman is directing two other people in tasks; they appear to be making soup and John's stomach growls. 

"I'm Keire," the woman says to the newcomers. Her curly blonde hair is tied up at the back of her head to keep it out of her face, and she looks young when she's not scowling. "I'll be running the cookcamp here. I'll always have something ready for you, most any time. It's not like _they_ need to sleep, and we all know they'll have what they want when they want it." She jerks a thumb at the soup. "Feel free to help yourselves, though if you brought anything you can contribute, it's appreciated.

"This isn't the usual situation," Keire continues, "so we'll go around and I'll have everyone's name and their Wraith or hive affiliation so we can know who's who. As I said, I'm Keire, this is my cousin Dairo," she gestures to Curly. "Eben is off to welcome your Wraith," she adds. John assumes "Eben" is the long-haired person; he wonders what such a "welcome" includes. 

"Murl and Lagan are cooking there," Keire finishes, gesturing to the young auburn-haired woman and dour looking middle-aged man who are working in the kitchen. "We call our Commander Blade." She touches her forehead in a way that John reads as indicating Brett's tattoo. John feels a slight chill and hopes that he doesn't get to know Brett well enough to know how appropriate the name "Blade" is for him. Keire looks at the newcomers expectantly. 

"My name is Zeren," says the pale-haired worshipper from Drew's hive. Seeing his face closer now as they're standing facing each other, John would say that he definitely _looks_ old- his fair hair could be either blond or grey, but his features are lined- and wonders how that factors in with the Gift of Life's healing abilities. Zeren gestures to his companions. "This is Lister," the man with the longer brown hair bows his head and looks bored, "and Tephra." The woman holds up her skirt in a variation of a curtsy. John notices that she's still not looking at anything and he wonders if she might have impaired vision. "We call the Commander we serve Dither." John feels his eyebrows go up, but Zeren continues without prompting, "He is very bad at making decisions." 

John's a little surprised that Drew allows such disrespect from his worshippers. Even if they don't call him that to his face, he has to be able to sense their attitudes that lead to the naming.

Rathin snorts in amusement. "I am Rathin. My Commander is known as Silver." He bows his head to the others only slightly. 

The way he says it is different than the others, but It's John's turn now and he doesn't have time to think about it. "My name's John. My Wraith is called Astral." He ducks his head in what could be interpreted as a respectful bow.

Keire nods decisively. "Eat up. They'll be talking for a while. There are facilities if you go back out to the hall and keep going down, turning right at the first passage. There are rooms with beds as well, though your Wraith will certainly choose their own accommodations." She sniffs derisively. 

John tries not to let his expression give away his further surprise, but Keire is also noticeably lacking in the deference Marije had shown to the "Eternal Ones." He wonders how disparate the different worshipper traditions are on different hives. He moves over to offer Keire some of the items he brought; getting on the cook's good side is always recommended in any new posting.

"This is very generous," Keire says, impressed by the supplies John gives her.

John inhales slowly as he whips through various responses in his head and finally decides that a part of the truth will cover a multitude of sins. "I've come to serve the Commander only very recently." He lets his voice get breathy, ending the phrase on a slight uptick of hopeful anticipation. "I thank you for seeing to our needs so that we may honor the Eternal Ones." 

At his words Keire's interest in him visibly dims; she's obviously been with the Wraith long enough that the shine's worn off without the immediacy of the Gift to blur her senses. 

Dairo steps closer to Keire, almost protectively. "You should have seen this one, Keire, the Wraith was all over him." He sneers at John. "You haven't the stamina to hold his attention long, that one. They say he serves no queen. He'll drink you dry soon as he gets bored."

It doesn't take a genius to understand that Dairo's hostility comes from jealously, and John has no need for these people to understand his and Todd's relationship. He puts on an affronted look and stalks away to get some soup, where he promptly ignores Dairo in favor of the delicious aroma. 

There aren't exactly a lot of chairs, so John takes his bowl to the end of the counter that's the farthest from Dairo but kind of close to where Murl is washing dishes with careful focus. Her hair has a reddish cast to its underlying brown, and she is really very pretty. He wonders how she got here. He watches her for a moment, but she doesn't look up at him and John turns his own focus to his meal. He's really hungry; he's snatched powerbars and stuff, but he hasn't had a real meal since Todd's room yesterday. Soup is apparently really popular among Wraith worshippers. Given what Keire said, John guesses that a pot of stew is easier to keep warm for people who need to be fed at odd hours, and in probably differing numbers. His appetite leaves him for a moment as he thinks about what Todd might or might not be eating at Brett's welcome party.

Murl pauses to look up at him and John looks back at her. She's got that almost permanently blissed out smile on her face, but she seems more coherent than Dairo. "What's your story?" John asks her.

She seems startled at first, then amused. "I serve the Eternal Ones," she says. She smiles, but her voice doesn't have the same breathiness as John had been trying to fake and instead she sounds genuinely happy. She scrubs a bowl clean in the sink, her bare hands under the steaming water, and then pulls it out to dry it with an air of satisfaction. 

"You appear to really enjoy it," John observes. "A lot more than some people." 

"You mean Keire," Murl says with affected wisdom. "She is bitter. She doesn't see the joy in service." Murl frowns as she buffs a spot off of the ceramic bowl. 

Rathin sidles up to stand beside John. The bowl he holds is already mostly empty, and he eyes John like he wants to say something. 

John readies himself for it and waits, pretty sure he knows what Rathin is about to say. The kid... he wants to say "kid," though there's no telling Rathin's age. Both Murl and Rathin seem younger, and there's a shine to Rathin that reminds John of Ford. 

"I hope you are not too distressed by Dairo's words," Rathin says worriedly. 

John checks to make sure Dairo's not looking and grins. "Nah. I think I've got a better idea what's going on with me and..." John only barely catches himself, "me and Astral than he does."

Rathin smiles in return and they eat in silence for a while. Or John eats, and Rathin toys with tracing his finger around the rim of his bowl several times before he surrenders it to Murl who washes it with the same focus as before. Zeren is talking to Dairo, and Lister and Tephra have left the room. There's a bit of commotion when Lagan, who had been cooking earlier and whom John hadn't noticed leaving, returns, half supporting Eben. 

John can see that Eben's long, dark hair is streaked with white as he leans on Lagan's support. His feet don't quite follow one after the other and he's staring off into space and humming. He looks like he's been drained, but he also looks fucking blissed, and John feels a ripple of distaste run up his spine again. 

Rathin sees the arrivals as well, and John supposes they have a bit of a rapport, so he asks, "What's up with that?"

Rathin turns to him with a quizzical frown but it's Murl who answers, "Blade offers for his guests to feed." Murl looks at Eben almost enviously before finishing for John, "It is his place, as host."

Rathin says, more objectively, "It is traditional that the host give those he has brought together the opportunity to feed. They may drain the offered human completely, but it is considered bad taste. The gesture is more ritual than it once was." 

John has to fight down nausea. "Bread and salt," he murmurs. Rathin and Murl both look at him strangely and John explains, "I once heard about an old tradition, that if two people share food it makes them allies, obligated to defend each other." 

John's still trying to keep his lunch in his stomach but Murl hums thoughtfully and Rathin says, "Yes, I suppose that's similar." 

Lagan is bringing Eben a bowl of soup and John feels too restless to stay here any longer. He hands his bowl off to Murl, who takes it to the water with a fierceness John's glad to not have turned on him, and he heads out into the hall. Rathin doesn't follow him and John's grateful for that; he could use some time to think. 

John explores in the direction that Keire had said and finds a series of doors that open off the main hallway, each leading to a small residential suite composed of a bedroom and washroom. One of the doors nearest the kitchen is closed; John hears voices and assumes that Tephra and Lister are within. As John walks by he sees some of the rooms have things like towels and blankets set on the corner of the bed, but as he goes farther down the hall the rooms are completely bare of anything except the furniture that's too heavy to move easily. 

He picks a room and sits on the corner of the bed. He takes a deep breath. 

Well, no one's pegged him as a fake yet, though the more he meets different worshippers the more John thinks that what he's faking isn't that he doesn't "worship" the Wraith, but rather that he's there of his own free will. 

He reaches inward and searches his thoughts for Todd. Atlantis brushes his consciousness, but he's not used to reaching for Todd without the anchor of being able to see him and can't quite find what tie there is that binds their thoughts together. 

It leaves him annoyed and John jumps up and paces for a minute, before he goes back out to the hall. There's the hall they're on, the one that leads back to where the Wraith are, and one more. John heads down the unknown hall. 

It's very similar to the previous hall, until it ends in a large rotunda that is the intersection of six hallways under a domed ceiling. John recognizes a transporter hatch across from him and goes over to it. He's not really expecting it to work and isn't surprised when it doesn't. He leans back against the wall for a moment and looks up at the ceiling. The dome is clear, so that the rocky stratum that is outside the base is visible. It might be more interesting to a geologist, but to John it's just a reminder that they're underground. He shivers again. Underground with a bunch of Wraith. Fun times. 

He reaches into his satchel for his canteen and takes a swig. In the silence of the emptiness he hears something moving and looks down into the satchel with some alarm. Looking back up at him is one of the lizards from the hive. It opens its tiny jaws and hisses at him, puffing up its neck.

John snorts at the creature. "What, you thought hiding in my bag was going to work out well for you?" He pulls the bag open slightly wider and sees the remnants of a piece of bellflower petal that had ended up in the bag; it looks well gnawed, so it follows that the lizard probably snuck into the bag to munch the leaf in peace and quiet when the bag had been sitting on the floor in Todd's room. John sets the canteen back in the bag, covering the lizard back up in its hiding spot. He's not sure what else to do with it and he hopes it doesn't sneak out of his bag. The planet is inhospitable, and he's fairly sure the base is too for the lizard. Though it's also possible that he's introducing some scarily resilient parthenogen that's going to reshape the entire planet's ecology. He frowns up at the stone stratum visible through the clear ceiling. However unlikely in this case. 

Looking at the rock above him makes the heaviness of it feel greater for a moment, more oppressive. It's not actually terribly similar- for one thing he's not tied up- but he's reminded of Kolya's base suddenly. He huffs a laugh that echoes in the stillness of the rotunda. John would never have thought at the time that he'd come out of that situation with a powerful ally; heck, there were times he hadn't been sure he'd get out of it at all. But almost a year later and Kolya's the one who's dead and Todd's doing a favor for him, albeit one he's probably enjoying. 

John tries to reach for Todd mentally again but when it doesn't work he reaches out to his surroundings instead, inviting Atlantis' view of the hallways. _Okay, Atlantis, can you tell me which of these would be a good direction to start looking for a database access point?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stars aligned such that I have no obligations today except finishing this and posting it. Many thanks to Mavet, for being one of those stars! Zero thanks to the weather for being another.

Atlantis only has minimally useful comments on the hallway options. It can add what John senses to its own database of information about the base, but it can't see much beyond that. 

There are six hallways, starting with the one he came down, and so he works his way around the rotunda starting to the right. He’s looking for a control room, or some sort of command console to turn the base on. Or a way to reach other parts of the facility; if one of these halls connects to another section of the base and he can move around without running into anyone else that will be extremely useful for further exploration. Those are the things he's _actually_ looking for, which will hopefully lead him to the thing he's _technically_ looking for: access to the database with all the juicy info he came here in search of.

The first three halls he tries are quick to eliminate as useful. The first two are dead ends- one literally just ending in a wall after John walks down it for about five minutes, and the other in a pair of empty rooms.

The third hall, beside the transporter and across from the one he entered by that leads back to the worshipper quarters, is short and ends in what he suspects used to be some kind of science lab, though everything movable has been stripped out of it. It's a big room with just a couple fixtures, and a glass-walled section that looks like it could be used for observing experiments. An uneasy feeling runs up John's spine and, after he finds that the remaining computer interfaces contain piles of smashed crystals, he leaves promptly. It's not _because_ the room gives him the creeps, but it does that too.

The second to last hallway has a few empty rooms off of it but nothing interesting, though it does go on forever. John finally turns back from his search when he feels like enough time has passed that he should get back- he should _probably_ not turn up mysteriously missing on his first day- but he wonders how far it keeps going. The direction is correct that if it continues, it could run all the way under the huge domed room where Brett first met them. That could be promising. 

It’s been a long couple hours of walking, and when John returns to the kitchen only Keire and Tephre are there. He smiles at Keire, though she eyes him suspiciously. "We've bread now," she allows, "thanks to the meal you provided."

John bows his head and replies, "And because you have the skill to use it." He's not sure why Frank sent him with a bag of flour with his supplies, but Keire appears mollified by the flattery and John gets some fresh baked bread and another bowl of soup before she can decide to ask him about his day or anything. By now, the soup has cooked down until it's more of a stew and it smells, if possible, even more delicious. 

He's almost done eating when Gary appears in the door. 

Keire stands and bows to the Wraith, touching Tephra's shoulder as she says, "Welcome, Eternal One." Tephra rises and bows as well; she’s obviously not able to see the Wraith and John wonders about her again. Keire had seemed rather disinterested in the Wraith earlier, but she watches Gary now with a sharp and desperate hopefulness.

John sops the last bit of soup from the bowl with the bread, puts it in his mouth, and stands up. He's not sure if he needs to bow as well or if, since Gary is from his hive, he doesn't need to be as deferential? Gary doesn't seem to notice either way, only making an imperative gesture in John's direction and saying, "Come."

John bows his head. He takes his bowl to the sink and hopes Murl won't skin him for leaving it there, but making Gary wait while he cleans it seems like a definite _faux pas_. He hurries toward Gary and Gary doesn't wait, whirling around as soon as John's destination is clear and stalking out of the room like he really has better places to be. 

John pays attention to the halls they go through; the Wraith are apparently being housed on the other side of the central meeting room because it's a bit of a walk. They pass Drew and Roger on their way; Zeren is with Drew as well, and John remembers that Zeren calls the Wraith "Dither." Drew scowls at John thoughtfully. They also pass Troy walking the opposite direction; the tall Wraith looks at John like he's hungry and John's bringing takeout. John's fingers brush the hilt of the closer of his knives. 

Gary ignores both encounters, continuing on and finally stopping at a door, waving it open to reveal Todd. 

John's relieved to see him and crosses the room swiftly to look up at Todd and say, "Master." 

Todd reaches for him, his large left hand cupping John's chin and his thumb stroking over the line of John's jaw. He doesn't speak, but Gary turns and leaves the room, the door closing behind him. John thinks they're alone but keeps his eyes on Todd. 

Todd sighs. He looks tired, but he brushes his thoughts over John's mind in that scrabbling spider walk. _"You are well?"_

 _"Yeah,"_ John assures him. He feels even better now, here with Todd. Like he can relax here, when he couldn't around the others. 

_"And your goal?"_

_"Nothing yet."_ John hesitates, but asks, _"And your meeting?"_

Todd sighs again. "This Commander is extremely irritating," he says, and his vexation shows in his voice. 

John huffs a laugh. "Yeah, well, he's a Wraith. I thought that was part of the whole package." 

Todd surprises them both by laughing as well. "John Sheppard," he muses. "You do have a gift for speaking words that are what I wish to hear." He seems to realize that his hand is still on John's face and he pulls it back. 

John clears his throat. "So, what's the big plan?"

"The Commander wishes to propose that we join all our hives together and besiege Atlantis." Todd obviously doesn't think much of this plan to judge by his withering tone. His eyes shift to John. "As if such a plan has not already been tried, on multiple occasions."

John holds himself still. Honestly, right now Atlantis is only just healing from the Asuran attack and they don't have the ZPM levels necessary to power the shields long enough to withstand a protracted siege if the Wraith get their shit together. The citymind is powered by a fission reactor that is really useful in a lot of ways and which can generate its own energy to a point, but it can't run systems as demanding as the shield without the aid of ZPMs that they don't have. The _Daedalus'_ help would only get them so far against what has to be at least six hives and cruisers, more if the Wraiths' queens bring their other ships along. John suddenly wishes he was back in Atlantis. He hadn't meant to leave the city unprotected with his absence. Atlantis brushes against his thoughts, attempting to reassure him. _All is well, the city is well._

Todd frowns at him. "This plan concerns you?"

John inhales slowly as he tries to disentangle himself from Atlantis' thoughts; the city isn't great with time frames, especially hypothetical futures, and it's a little disorienting. "Well, I find the idea of anyone attacking my home to be a little concerning," he replies glibly.

Todd regards him for a long moment. John kind of hopes Todd doesn't ask him anything more. He finds himself extremely reluctant to lie to Todd but discussing Atlantis' vulnerabilities with someone who's specifically attending meetings to find a way to exploit those vulnerabilities doesn't sit well with him either. 

Todd hums thoughtfully. "The plan is not popular with the other commanders. While this Commander has support from his brother and the Commander who serves the Queen of the Deepest Satisfaction, the rest of us are not easily swayed." He bares his teeth in a fierce grin. "I may have suggested that he intends to use the hive of the Queen of the Deepest Satisfaction as the vanguard. Her representatives were not pleased by this and managed to take my simple suggestion and cement it in their minds as fact through all of their discussion on the merit of the plan." 

John guesses that the two commanders who support Brett are Troy and Elmer, and that the "representatives of the Queen of the Deepest Satisfaction"- what a name- are the Four Horsemen. "That is slick," he admits, and feels both pride and affection at Todd's misdirect.

Todd looks pleased as well. "We are taking a recess for the others to contact their queens." He regards John. "Wraith do not need regular sleep in the way that humans do, but we will break from our discussions to have more private conferences with our hives, and also for rest periods." He gestures to the room around them. "This is the room I will be using when we are not together discussing this Commander's inadvisable plans. I wished the Hive Master to bring you so that you would be able to find your way here from the worshipper commune. "

John nods. "This is just your room?" he clarifies. "Not the Hive Master, too?"

"Your presence allows him to not need to attend me in that manner, and he is using the opportunity of this meeting to deepen a bond with a brother from a previous hive who may be able to give us information about this Commander which is perhaps not aligned entirely with that one's professed plans." 

"You think he's lying to you? To all of you?" John asks.

Todd grins. "To me? Certainly. To us all? Perhaps. This meeting seems an odd strategy unless he has more to offer than just an idea that has failed before." Todd looks at John and continues, "You do not need to remain here for the duration. Worshippers often feel more comfortable residing in different areas, and to remain where you are less likely to have conflict with other Wraith will give you more time to seek your goal."

John frowns. "But wouldn't that blow my cover? I'm supposed to be here to help you." He reaches out to touch Todd's mind with his. It works better for him now that he has a physical Todd to focus on, and he feels the echo back down the mental link as Todd registers his touch.

"Hmm." Todd looks at him, the gold of his eyes thin in the dimly lit room. " _You do not need to_ ," he reminds John. 

" _And if I kind of want to_?" John fires back, only realizing after he does so that it's a lot harder to hide his own desires when he speaks on the mental plane, where he has less practice at hiding them. "But, I mean, if you want some time to yourself, then don't let me-"

John steps back, but, before he notices Todd moving, Todd's fingers are already curled around his wrist. 

" _I_ do not wish for you to leave," Todd says. His voice is soft, like he's confessing something he shouldn't. 

John's not sure what that's about- being here with Todd is literally his cover, according to the Holder, so Todd _should_ want him to be here. But Todd leans forward, resting his forehead on John's shoulder, the bridge of his nose pressed almost painfully hard into John's collarbone. 

John exhales slowly, then turns his head toward Todd. He mostly sees the fall of Todd's hair and the curve of an ear. He reaches up tentatively and rests a hand on Todd's hair. The strands feel thicker than human hair against his skin, like they should feel coarse, but they're silky and part easily when he threads his fingers through them, not tangling at all as he strokes his hand over Todd's head and down to the back of his neck. 

John figures that, whatever Todd’s potentially nefarious reasons for offering to "help" them with this, Todd _is_ doing Atlantis a huge favor here, and one that's turning out to be not exactly a fun time for him. John'd thought earlier that this place doesn't actually remind him of Kolya's bunker, but Todd spent a bit more time there than he did, and he wonders if it's a more automatic correlation for Todd.

John raises his hand to return it to the top of Todd's head, tucking the length of his hair behind his ear as he strokes his fingers down through it. Todd's ear is a strange pattern of whorls that John would suddenly very much like to touch, exploring the unfamiliar lines of it with the tips of his fingers. He doesn’t; the unexpected strength of his _wanting_ to touch Todd makes it something he is suddenly more aware of, and he pulls back his hand. He asks, _"Is it Kolya?"_ He doesn’t project the question at Todd; Todd had picked up on his thoughts easily before and John’s sure he can again, if he even _wants_ Todd to “hear” him. " _Does being here remind you of that? Because I was_ there _, too. You want me to stay, but that can't help you to_ not _think of it._ " 

Todd chuckles, a low rumble that John can feel. "Your coming was the end of the ordeal," he reminds John. His right arm slides around John’s body, holding him close. _“The hive is distant and to reach out to them requires a great effort. That is what recalls it to my mind, not your presence,”_ he observes as he turns his head until his breath is ghosting over John's, his lips close enough to kiss.

John leans back a bit, and those lips are so close, he's going to do something he probably shouldn't, and then Todd lifts his head off John’s shoulder and asks him, "What is 'Todd'?"

John flushes red. "Um. Yeah. About that." He steps away and rubs the back of his head. "You didn't exactly give me your name? So, I gave you one. I mean, I name all you guys. It helps me tell you apart.” 

Todd seems genuinely amused. 

John licks his lips and pushes, "But I would like to know your name. Your real name." 

"Spoken 'names' as identification are a human concept," Todd replies. 

"Oh." John frowns. "So, you don't call each other anything? Just, 'Hey You'?"

Todd gives an annoyed huff, but he still looks amused. "A Wraith's identity is composed of their mental impression and that is how we know each other. It... is a thing which cannot be translated into spoken words without irrevocably changing the nature of it and rendering it meaningless." 

“I guess that makes sense,” John allows. “Since you’re, you know. Telepathic.”

“Yes.” Todd watches him. His gaze is sharp and almost predatory, but his expression is genial. 

John starts to step away, to see if he can hide how disappointed he is- to see if he can figure out _why_ he feels so disappointed. 

Todd reaches out for John, curling his fingers in the fabric of John's shirt, where it crosses over his abdomen, holding him close for a moment longer. "However, when bonds are developed between individuals, words of claiming and affection can be given." Todd gives a suggestive smile and tilts his head back in invitation. 

“Like a nickname,” John offers. “Which is a-” he shrugs. “An extra name, you give to people you like.”

Todd smiles at him.

John frowns. "And sometimes to people you don’t like? Look, I give everyone names," he reminds Todd, because he wants this to be on the level. "All of you, the Wraith that I meet. That's not something that's just affectionate on my part. I mean, it can be, but it isn't always. But.” He swallows. “If you _didn't_ like it, I'd stop. And I'd only do that because it's you."

Todd's smile softens. "I am pleased with your name for me." He leans close. "Sheppard." 

They're close together, and he can feel Todd's hand, his knuckles brushing John's stomach. John shivers, his own hands coming up automatically to fist in Todd's coat and his heart rate picking up, his lips parting in anticipation.

Todd stills in a predatory way, his senses attuned to John. “Do you wish for the Gift?” He frowns, his eyes focusing sharply on John. 

“No,” John manages to get out, because he agrees with Todd on that- it’s too soon, and he has a job he needs to do, he can’t forget himself in the feeling good. “I just-” How to explain that he’s developing a Pavlovian response to Todd saying his name? Or maybe just to Todd’s proximity. He thinks a part of it is the chemical reaction to the Gift, but it’s more than that. If it was just the Gift, he’d be like Keire- hating the Wraith but still desperately eager for one of them to give him a hit. And that’s not what he feels at all. The idea of any of the Wraith he passed in the hall on his way here touching him with their hand, even Gary, makes him itch to pull out his knife. But Todd… John wonders if part of it is just that Todd’s the only Wraith that’s ever fed on him. Is there some sort of bond between them because of that? But that can’t be it, because he’s pretty sure that Todd feels it too, and he’s definitely not the only person Todd’s ever done this with. 

And that reminds him of Eben, pretty effectively dousing his arousal. 

John unclenches his hand from Todd’s coat and manages to take an entire half step backwards. “Anything interesting happen with that welcome ceremony that I missed?”

Todd’s eyes narrow. “You will have to specify what you consider ‘interesting.’” He leans back slightly, regarding John, and John gets the feeling he’s amused again.

"There was a guy called Eben. He came down there to _feed_ everyone. Sound familiar?" 

"Hmm. It is tradition that a Wraith who calls together others must demonstrate that they are one who is worth listening to. They offer sustenance in demonstration that they are a capable leader. The tradition is a mere shadow of what it once was," he concludes with a sniff. 

John nods and takes another step back. "So, you all gnawed on Eben like he was a tasty appetizer to the real meat of your _chat_." His hand comes up to rub his chest and he half turns away from Todd.

Todd's eyes narrow and his tone is scathing as he retorts, "This displeases you because you believe he was unwilling, or because you know that he was only too eager?"

John shivers. Eben's face when he'd returned to the worshipper's mess had been practically beatific. “I think _wanting_ something doesn’t really count for much when you’re talking addiction,” he shoots back. 

Todd bares his teeth. “Would you rather have protected him from that? Would you rather that it was you who undertook this experience?”

Desire and revulsion fill John- he _wants_ Todd's hands on him as much as he pushes away the idea of any other Wraith coming anywhere near him. It's confusing, because wanting it feels like something that's real, but it can't be; the addictive power of the enzyme precludes any human submitting to the procedure willingly. He's flailing a bit, and he tries to focus the conflict in him onto something specific, firing back, “So, humans are pretty interchangeable to you then. Eating one is as good as another? Don't even bother to keep track of them, do you?"

“And how many Wraith have you killed, John Sheppard? And for what reason?” Todd steps forward, and John takes a step back before steeling himself and holding his ground. Todd glares at him. “Perhaps it is good that Wraith place greater value on the lives of those who are sworn to them, and not on their species as a whole.”

John doesn’t say anything to that, and Todd exhales and steps back. He turns away and spreads his hand in dismissal. “You may return to your search.”

John doesn’t move. A part of him would really like to storm out, and a part of him would really like to punch Todd in the face, but at the moment the stubborn side wins out and he goes to sit on the edge of the bed. 

It’s not as comfortable, or fur-strew, as Todd’s bed on the hive, but John sets the bag he’s carried with him on the floor and pulls out the thin, thermal blanket that he’d packed into the corner and wraps it around his shoulders before curling up stubbornly on the bed. He’s staying.

Though, he hadn’t really thought about the fact that while he’s been sleeping in Todd’s bed the last few nights, he’s never actually shared it _with_ Todd. As Todd settles his weight on the bed behind John, John tenses. He usually likes sleeping with others near him, but it has to be people he trusts. Lately that’s pretty exclusively been his team when they end up camping out on whatever world they’re exploring, so that the sensation of someone sleeping near him now feels incomplete without the undercurrent of Rodney’s complaining, Ronon’s low words of amusement, and Teyla's silent reassuring presence. 

There’s an atavistic reaction to a Wraith being near him that makes the idea of trying to relax and sleep somewhat laughable. But Todd says, “Sheppard,” the word amused and wondering, and John finds himself relaxing as Todd leans against him, his forehead resting against the back of John’s shoulder as he sighs, the heavy weight of his body coming to rest all along John, and, before he can laugh at himself for being an idiot, the day catches up to him and John’s asleep.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fanart for Nykteridalatry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29530596) by [picturae (Eos_x)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eos_x/pseuds/picturae)




End file.
